


Chiswap Chronicles

by DragonNutt



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Evil Raimundo, F/M, Heylin Guan, Lots and Lots of Ship Tease, M/M, Xiaolin Chase, Xiaolin Jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonNutt/pseuds/DragonNutt
Summary: Jack Spicer, Xiaolin Dragon of Metal in training, has lived at the Xiaolin temple since he was six years old. With Omi as his best friend and Master Monk Chase as his favorite teacher, he strives to be the coolest, most amazing robot-wielding warrior in the world. But the universe has its ways of maintaining the balance of good and evil. Warlord Guan replaced Master Chase on the Heylin side, so the question is: who replaced Jack Spicer?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiousCanine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousCanine/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple years ago, curiousCanine proposed an AU idea which became our favorite long-running RP. Two years later, I stole the AU right out of Canine's hands, tore out chunks of it, and decided to sew all the remaining pieces together into a fanfic. Somehow, through some miracle, Canine and I are still friends. Enjoy!

Jack Spicer, Xiaolin Boy Genius, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Alright, so I know my last robot might have caused a few unfortunate accidents in the kitchen last week.” Lifting up his freshly painted Maid-Bot, he beamed proudly. “But my _new_ design will solve every problem a Xiaolin monk could ever have! Never again will I—or uh, anyone else—have to lift a finger for chores! Laundry, dishes, dusting, you name it, and she can do it!”

Master Monk Chase said nothing. Sitting quietly in the meditation hall, he eyed the robot with an unreadable expression and took a sip of his tea.

Jack decided to interpret his silence as a good sign. Pressing a button at his wrist, he released the robot and let it hover in front of him. At his command, it took a theatrical spin and a bow. Jack folded his hands. “As I am sure you are aware, we mighty Xiaolin Dragons have a schedule full of training, fighting, and using our brilliant minds. It would be a _terrible_ waste to spend our valuable time on such, uh, tedious and trivial matters… like chores.” Breaking out of his serious and professional persona, he dramatically threw out his arms to frame the robot. “So here is the answer to my—I mean, your—prayers: Jack Spicer’s Maid-Bot 12.0!” He leaned forward a bit, bouncing on the soles of his feet and biting his lip. “So? What do you think?”

Lowering his cup of tea, Master Monk Chase raised an eyebrow and said, “I think it’s quite interesting how much your robot resembles Master Fung’s missing coffee machine.”

“I—!” Jack gulped, somehow managing to keep his smile from faltering and giving him away. “Uh. You think so?” He overcorrected a bit when he swayed back to stand upright.

“Oddly enough, its head is shaped a bit like a lightbulb,” said Chase, “specifically the one that disappeared from the dorm’s overhead last week. And if I didn’t know better, I would think its fingers resemble pieces from Master Fung’s toenail clipper—”

Laughing nervously, Jack grabbed the robot and shoved it behind him. “Soooo I might have borrowed some stuff. It’s a prototype! I’ll have way better access to my own materials once I harness my element better, which I’ll only be able to do if I spend less time on chores, by the way. I can get Master Fung a new coffee machine! Well uh, I think I can— I’d have to call my grandma—”

“Master Fung does not want a new coffee machine,” said Chase, now frowning a little. “He wants his belongings returned to him. Take your robot apart and put everything back where you found it.”

Jack’s mouth dropped, and in what was definitely a _rare_ sign of immaturity, he stomped his foot in defiance. “But Chaaaaase, it can do all my chores for me! And it could do yours, too, I swear! Why should I wash dishes and underwear when I could be doing something more important?”

“There is nothing more important than keeping your living space clean and safe for all its dwellers, whether that be your temple, your bedroom, or the entire world.” Master Monk Chase finished his tea and stood. “But if you insist, the dismantling of your robot can wait. Go find Omi. Master Fung and I have something important to tell you both.”

“Uuuuugh, fine.” Turning around to shut off the Maid-Bot and let it drop into his arms, he narrowed his eyes at the elder. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

“It never is,” agreed Chase with an exasperated sigh.

The two parted ways, and Jack dashed to his bedroom to toss the robot into the scattered chaos of metal and wire pieces littering his floor. Master Fung had spent years trying to curb his interest in building machines, and Jack’s absolute refusal to cooperate was the main reason Master Fung needed a coffee machine in the first place. Half-built robots sat atop every piece of furniture available, squished between instruction manuals on his bookshelf and stacked on top of the dresser. Even Jack’s wide-open underwear drawer held a glaring mechanical head amongst the strewn undergarments.

Jack peeked into Omi’s room, far cleaner and emptier than his own. “That goody-two-shoes better not be training again,” he muttered before trotting down the hallway.

To his complete lack of surprise, he found the bald little monk outside, springing off the foyer and into the rain. Effortlessly landing a front flip, Omi barely spared him a glance until Jack called, “Master Monk Chase told you to get your butt indoors.”

Pulling himself out of his battle stance, Omi pointed at Jack. “If Master Monk Chase knew that my Lotus Strike lands an eighth of an inch to the left—”

“Oh no, one whole _eighth_ of an inch?” Jack gave an exaggerated gasp and dragged his palms down his cheeks. “How will you live with yourself if the crack you give to your enemy’s skull is off-center?”

“You mock me now, Jack, but the slightest error could mean the difference between victory and defeat!” Omi straightened his back and raised his chin a bit. “If you were as dedicated to the accuracy of _your_ attacks, perhaps your robots would have better aiming skills than an average Stormtrooper’s.”

Jack scowled at him. “They’re called Jackbots.”

Breaking into a smile, Omi added, “Did you get my joke? They’re like the Star Wars movie you showed me—”

“Yeah, Cheddar Head, I pieced that together.” Leaning against the doorway, Jack pointed his thumb behind him. “Now get your butt out of the rain. Chase said he had something important to tell us.”

As Omi finally strolled inside, he said, “Speaking of your robots, I assume your conversation with Master Monk Chase ended in failure once more?”

Still scowling while they started the walk back up the hallway, Jack huffed and crossed his arms. “He’s lucky he’s so pretty…”

Omi rolled his eyes but kept his expression otherwise impassive. “Jack Spicer, your infatuation with Master Monk Chase is a waste of your time and energy. He is far too old to pursue any romantic endeavors with you.”

Jack flushed and tried to smack Omi upside the head, but the little monk dodged with ease. “Hey! You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life. I’m the older one here! I’m the one who gives _you_ advice and takes care of you, got it?”

Omi glanced at him. “Tie your shoes, Jack.”

Bouncing as he lifted one foot to grab at his laces, Jack followed Omi back to the meditation hall. When Master Monk Chase and Master Fung strolled out to meet them, the latter’s mouth pressed into a line. “Jack, where are your robes?”

Jack glanced down at his maroon t-shirt and khaki cargo pants. “Uh. I didn’t want to get motor oil on them.” Honestly, he wasn’t sure where his Xiaolin robes were, though he vaguely remembered using the white pants like a napkin last night to wipe some black and red paint off his hands.

Master Fung closed his eyes for a moment and took a long breath. The little green dragon on his shoulder, Dojo, shook his head in disapproval, but Jack ignored him. Finally, the elder monk said, “Perhaps you could change into something more presentable before you meet the new students arriving at the temple.”

“New students?!” Jack and Omi said in unison.

“Three, to be exact,” clarified Master Monk Chase. “All Chosen Ones, just like the two of you.”

Omi gasped. “Really? Do they know how to walk on walls and ceilings yet? Can I show them my Viper Strike? My Lotus Strike hasn’t been perfected yet—”

“Perhaps, young monk, perhaps.” Master Fung started walking, and Omi scampered after him like a puppy, still babbling about his martial arts.

Trailing behind Master Monk Chase, Jack wasn’t quite sure how to feel. He hadn’t hung out with other kids his age since he was in first grade, a year full of swirlies and purple nurples. Still, he’d grown a lot since then. If any of these new students tried to dunk his head into a toilet, he could always set his robot army on them, assuming Omi didn’t pounce on them first.

Master Fung passed through the grand hall and through a doorway, and though Omi trotted after him, Jack paused at the door with Master Monk Chase. On the other side of the large, well-lit room, three young teenagers stood, and Jack took a sharp, surprised breath.

One of the three whipped his head around. Though his hoodie was drawn over his head, the teen’s green eyes were sharp and piercing under his tussled brown hair. His white jacket’s sleeves were short, showing off tan, muscled arms. Jack was pretty sure that if the phrase, “tall, dark, and handsome,” was in a dictionary, this guy’s face would be the picture next to it.

Next to him, a girl chattered on her mobile, which Jack immediately recognized as the pink version of the latest PandaPhone model. Though the two other newcomers towered over her dainty frame, her blue eyes gleamed with fiery confidence. Next to her, the perfect caricature of a sturdy Texan cowboy stood, complete with hat, boots, and a neckerchief. His arms and chest looked thick enough to break a truck in half.

“Oh no,” Jack mumbled under his breath. “They’re all hot.”

“Are you alright, Jack?” asked Master Monk Chase.

Jack’s mouth spread into a wide grin. “I am _fantastic_ , thank you.” As suavely as he could manage, he strolled into the room to join Omi’s side. Other than a raised eyebrow from the hooded teen, no one paid him much attention.

“Omi, Jack,” said Master Fung, “I would like you to meet Raimundo, Kimiko, and Clay.”

At the first name, the hooded teen said, “’Sup.”

“He said that?” the girl gasped to her phone. Looking up, she gave a distracted, “Hey,” before returning to her phone chat. “No way!”

At the third name, the cowboy dipped his hat. “Howdy.”

Omi tugged at Jack’s cargo pants and murmured, “You and the girl must have a lot in common!”

“How do you figure?” asked Jack, waving awkwardly when Kimiko glanced at them.

“You have a shared interest in graphic designs on your shirts,” Omi said, pointing at the star on Kimiko’s blouse and the Frankenstein design on Jack’s tee, “and she is also rude enough to have a conversation on her phone during an important meeting! You two must be kindred spirits!”

Eyes widening, the girl stammered, “Uh… I’m gonna have to call you back, Keiko.” Face flushing red, she shoved the phone into her backpack. Omi gave her a smile that everyone in the room except Jack interpreted as “innocent.”

Barely repressing another sigh, Master Monk Chase stepped forward. “Welcome to the Xiaolin temple, young ones. I will be one of your teachers here. Jack, Omi, why don’t you give your new teammates a tour of the temple?”

Still thinking about how the number of gorgeous people in the temple had jumped from one to four, Jack almost didn’t hear him. Omi, however, bowed to the group and said, “An excellent idea, Master Monk Chase! Welcome, new friends!” He glanced back when Jack didn’t join him.

Blinking and trying very hard to stop gawking, Jack cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Yeah, uh, welcome! You guys, you’re uh, you’re not what I expected, that’s for sure!”

“The best things in life rarely are,” said Master Fung.

For once, Jack agreed with him.


	2. Chapter 2

As the five students made their way back up the hallway and out toward the gardens, Chase quietly watched them leave, clasping his hands together a little too tightly under his sleeves. Nothing about these new three struck him as unusual, and yet…

Master Fung strolled to his side and said, “I sense disquiet in you. What is on your mind?”

Chase took a long breath, thinking back to the dozens of previous generations from the past 1,500 years. “We’ve never had five Xiaolin Dragons in training all at once before. Even back in Wuya’s reign, there were only three: Dashi, me, and… and Guan.” He frowned a little but quickly resumed his impassive expression.

Master Fung nodded slowly. “And you are worried about how the balance between good and evil will shift to accommodate these new monks.”

Chase nodded. Dojo sprang from Master Fung’s shoulder to his. Casually curling his tail across the back of Chase’s neck, the dragon said, “Come on, Chase baby. You and I have weathered 1,500 years of evil. Giant spiders, green monkeys, earwigs, grim reapers… two-headed Atlantis-eating dragons…” He rubbed at one of his feathery ears and chuckled nervously. “My point is, no matter what the world has thrown at you, you’ve always come out on top!”

“I am not at all worried about what could happen to me,” Chase said, following Master Fung as the two walked to the meditation rooms. “But if five Xiaolin Dragons are needed to maintain the balance of good and evil, then whenever that evil may rise, I merely hope our students will be ready.”

* * *

“The key is balance!” Omi strolled in front of the group on two fingers, both feet high in the air. “If you are a beginner, you might want to start with three fingers.”

Clay wiggled two of his fingers in front of him. “Uh, just curious: when will we need this?”

Raimundo stared intently at the smallest monk. “Might be useful for sneaking around. Maybe somewhere your footsteps would be too loud. Or on a narrow walkway.”

“Looks like a waste of time to me,” Kimiko mumbled, arms crossed and with cheeks still pink from her earlier embarrassment.

“Never mind that, then.” Springing back onto his feet, Omi clasped his hands together and bowed respectfully to the group. “Firstly, I do offer my condolences for the fate of your parents.”

The three newbies stared blankly at him, and Jack smacked his own forehead. Voice low, Raimundo asked, “What about our parents?”

This time it was Omi’s turn to blink in confusion. “Are you not orphans? Like me and Jack?”

Raimundo’s face turned pale. Frowning and glancing at the others, Clay said, “Not to my knowledge.” Kimiko pulled out her phone and started dialing a number before Jack managed to intervene.

“Your parents are fine!” Waving his hands in appeasement, he aimed a kick at Omi’s shins and missed. “Omi’s just an idiot; he thought you guys were orphans like us, and that’s why you were here.”

“Oh.” The three glanced at each other again. Kimiko blinked, tapped at her phone, and put it back in her bag. Raimundo let out a breath he had been holding, and Clay let out an uneasy chuckle. Kimiko said, “You two are orphans?”

“I have been here since I was a baby,” said Omi with a nod, “and Jack’s parents died in a car crash when he was six. His grandmother sent him here.”

“Oh,” Kimiko said again. “Um. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jack rubbed at his temples before taking a breath and gesturing to Omi and himself. “Well, now that _someone_ has made everything awkward, time to introduce ourselves! This is Omi. He punches stuff, and he makes everything awkward. I’m Jack Spicer, Xiaolin Boy Genius—”

“Self-proclaimed genius,” Omi muttered.

“No, it’s official, I took an IQ test and everything—”

“You cheated on that IQ test.”

“And who else would be smart enough to do that?”

“Your shoelaces are still untied, Jack.”

“My point is,” said Jack, turning away from Omi’s triumphant smirk, “I know the place like the back of my robots’ hands. I am an expert on everything Xiaolin, so if you have any questions,” He gave the group a cheesy wink and a set of finger guns, “don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Riiight,” said Kimiko. Pulling out a PDA, she glanced at it and asked, “First question, then: any net connection? I need to send an email to a friend in Tokyo.”

“Sure is!” Jack straightened his back proudly. “I set it up myself when I was seven! Don’t tell Master Fung.”

“The password is ‘jackspiceroolz,’” said Omi. “J-A-C-K-S-P-I-C-E-R-O-O-L-Z. He was trying to say ‘Jack Spicer rules,’ but he forgot the second R and—”

Jack aimed and missed another kick at the small monk, but to their surprise, Kimiko giggled. “Seven years old, huh? Sounds like you know your way around a computer?”

Jack spun back to her and puffed out his chest. “Sure do! I’ve hacked more hard drives than you’ve ever seen, baby!”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Kimiko said, resting a hand on her hip but still smiling.

Wondering if flexing his admittedly noodle-shaped muscles for her would have the desired effect, Jack stuck his thumbs into his pockets instead. “I’m more of the inventor type, though. Just this morning, I made a bot that can dust, wash dishes, sweep, and do laundry, all made out of recycled materials!”

“Recycled?” said Omi. “That’s an odd way to pronounce ‘stolen.’”

“Heeeeey, Cheddar Head,” said Jack, turning a forced smile toward the small monk, “why don’t you go do something fun with Raimundo and Clay, huh?”

Rolling his eyes, Omi spun on his heel to face the taller boys. “Are either of you swift on your feet?” Before either teen had the chance to answer, Omi beamed and took off down the field. “Then witness the fierce cheetah method of fighting! I defy you to catch me!”

Jack returned his attention to Kimiko. “Sorry about him. Where were we?” Kimiko, however, had her eyes on the other boys. Omi dashed around the grassy fields, babbling about a strategy to keep his opponents confused. Raimundo didn’t move, but Clay pulled a rope out of his hat. Jack’s eyebrows rose as the cowboy casually tied a lasso, threw it, and snagged Omi by the ankle. The small monk hit the dirt with a yelp.

“Hope I didn’t muck up your lesson too much, little fella,” said Clay. “Just can’t resist a challenge.”

Jack started laughing so hard that he nearly fell over. Kimiko giggled, and Raimundo smiled with a mixture of amusement and sympathy for their tiny teacher. Red-faced while the cowboy pulled the rope and dragged him back to the group, Omi sprang to his feet.  The rest of the group braced itself for a temper tantrum, but instead, Omi took a deep breath, untied himself, and straightened his back.  “Not at all, Clay. I am quite used to a teammate finding loopholes in my battle strategies.”

His gaze slid to Jack, who smirked and said, “Keeps you on your toes.”

Omi gritted his teeth. “Indeed.”

* * *

Though Chase was tempted to observe the three newest students more closely, he agreed with Master Fung that allowing the five a chance to bond unsupervised would provide the most opportunity for them. He held a certain admiration for Master Fung’s hands-off teaching methods, especially since they remained unchanged despite all the years of Jack Spicer constantly testing the elder’s patience. If Chase were in charge, he would be down in the fields with the kids to at least make sure they were all getting along. However, he knew better than to let his desire for control get in the way of their budding friendships.

He had no reason to worry. He and the other elder monks had already moved the belongings of the new students into the dormitories, and starting tomorrow, the three would join Omi and Jack in their regular training. Everything was going exactly as it should--

A freezing shudder shot through Chase’s back, and his eyes opened.

Sitting in a circle with the other elder monks, joined in meditation around the vault’s cauldron, the warrior looked around at the others. Master Fung met his gaze. Eyes round, the bearded monk asked, “Did you sense that?”

Another elderly monk murmured, “It was as if a great chill had descended upon the land.”

Master Fung raised an eyebrow, still watching Chase. “Do you recognize…?”

Chase’s fingers clasped together tightly. “It’s not Hannibal. His presence is more… sickly.” He turned to gaze upward at the glass ceiling, through which the sky was still thankfully a clear blue. It couldn’t be possible. Her puzzle box had been lost centuries ago, and yet… “I haven’t felt this presence in 1,500 years. Someone has set her free.”

Master Fung nodded slowly. “Wuya.”

* * *

“Who’s Wuya?” asked Raimundo.

The five young monks sat in a semi-circle around Master Fung and Master Monk Chase. Jack had made sure to sit right next to Kimiko, who gave him a friendly smile. At Raimundo’s question, Omi’s hand shot up, and Jack mouthed “teacher’s pet” at him.

Master Fung acknowledged Omi’s hand with a nod but answered the question himself, “She is an ancient Heylin witch from the era of Grand Master Dashi, creator of the Shen Gong Wu. Though she is currently powerless, she will attempt to collect the Shen Gong Wu for herself to build her strength. Should she succeed, the world will be thrown into ten thousand years of darkness. It is your most solemn duty as Xiaolin Warriors to find all the Shen Gong Wu before Wuya does.”

Omi’s hand dropped, and his expression turned solemn. Jack drummed his fingers on his crossed arms and said, “I have a question.”

Master Fung’s gaze slid to the redhead. “Yes?”

“Where’s all my stuff?” When the others turned to stare at him, he pointed backwards. “You guys squished my room over to Omi’s side to make space for the new guys, and all my bots are gone! Where’d you put them all?”

Master Fung looked like he had to physically restrain his own eye from twitching. “I assure you, Jack, all your belongings are still there. The only things missing are the parts and pieces that were never yours to begin with.”

Omi put a hand over his mouth to muffle his giggle. Clay gave Jack a judgmental frown. Kimiko scooted a few inches away from him and shifted her backpack to her lap, watching him with newfound distrust. The only student who didn’t respond to Jack’s implied thievery was Raimundo, who leaned forward and asked, “The Shen Gong Wu… they’re weapons, right? How do we get them before this witch person?”

Master Monk Chase answered, “You will need the ancient scroll of the Shen Gong Wu, which will inform you of their abilities as they reveal themselves. Dojo is currently guarding it; he will escort you to each location.”

“Dojo?” Raimundo frowned skeptically. “The gecko?”

Jack snorted. Leaning closer to the hooded teen, he said, “Call him that to his face. I dare you.”

Raimundo wrinkled his nose and leaned further back from Jack. “Why? What’s the worst he can do? Bite me?”

* * *

A few minutes later, after abruptly learning that Dojo could change size, breathe fire, and most certainly did not appreciate a comparison between him and any species of common lizard, Raimundo stomped outside with his expression sour and his hair only slightly singed. Clutching the Shen Gong Wu scroll, the enormous dragon slithered out the door after him and called, “Hop on, kiddies!”

Omi bounded onto Dojo’s back immediately, and Jack clambered on with a grumble, but the other three were too busy gawking. Dojo preened at their awe, and eventually Kimiko and Clay found the courage to climb onto him. Raimundo, tugging his hood forward, was the last to join. When Dojo took off, the new three’s outcries and yelps drowned out Jack’s groan of dread. He certainly wasn’t scared of heights, but Dojo’s serpentine body coasted through the air currents in the sky, which meant lots and lots of _undulating_. Jack had to keep his eyes either clamped shut or focused on a stationary spot on the dragon’s scales to keep from getting nauseated.

“So, Omi,” said Dojo, passing the scroll back to the smallest monk, “what’s the name of your first hot one? Mantis Flip Coin? Ants in the Pants? Fist of Tebigong? Can’t believe you kids are already on your first Wu hunt! You’re all growing up so fast…”

Before Jack could grumpily point out that Dojo had known three of them for less than a day, Omi opened up the scroll and read, “The Moby Morpher.”

Jack fell flat on his face as Dojo’s flight abruptly slowed. The dragon whipped his head around. “What?”

Omi held up the scroll for the other monks behind him to see. “Whoever possesses the Moby Morpher can change his shape and size, even taking on the appearance of his enemies.” In the center of the scroll, a round display showed a figure moving around like it belonged in a mystical television screen, but Jack was honestly too queasy to be impressed by mundane magic.

Dojo curled a bit in the air to bring his head closer to the group. “Are you sure that’s what it says? It’s not something… easier…?” His voice trailed off when he saw the scroll himself.

“What’s got your goat, Dojo?” Clay asked. “You’re lookin’ a mite pale, there.”

Dojo’s lips curled as far down as they could go on his reptilian jawline, but when he glanced back up and saw the dawning worry of his passengers, he gave them a forced smile. “Nothing! Just different from the norm, that’s all!” He whipped his head back around and sped forward again, causing Jack to fly backwards and smack the back of his head onto Clay’s chest.

Clay, who didn’t even flinch at the collision, grabbed Jack’s shoulders and helped him sit back upright. “Uh, you alright there, partner?”

Flushing and laughing nervously, Jack casually stretched his arms over his head. “Hey, don’t worry about me! I’m tougher than I look!” He swallowed a burp of nausea and grabbed onto Dojo again.

After what couldn’t have been long, despite Jack’s stomach complaining otherwise, Dojo descended upon a smoking volcanic island. The monks clutched the dragon closely as he landed right at the volcano’s rim. Lava bubbled in the crater amongst chunks of hardened rock. When Dojo shrank down, Jack hobbled aside to sit down while the others nervously approached the rim.

“Uh.” Kimiko rested her fists on her hips. “What now?”

Dojo sprang onto Clay’s hat and peered into the smoke. “Now we fetch the Shen Gong Wu and hope no bad guys show up.” After a moment of silence, he added, “And by ‘we,’ I mean ‘you.’”

Clay tilted his hat a bit and turned around to gaze down the side of the volcano. “Where is it?”

Raimundo silently pointed into the smoke. Atop a hardened rock in the middle of the lava sat a gleaming black and red object. Raimundo cautiously placed his foot at the edge of the rim and bit his lip. Kimiko looked up at Dojo and said, “Can’t you fly over there and get it?”

“Hey, this is a learning experience!” Dojo crossed his arms and smiled. “You kids can’t become Xiaolin Dragons if I’m holding your hands the whole time. You’ll have to go fetch it yourselves.”

Managing to successfully contain his breakfast, Jack clambered back to his feet and joined the group. Omi held a hand up to him. “Jack, may I borrow your goggles?”

Jack shrugged and yanked his set of gold goggles from his head. “Knock yourself out.” Omi pulled them over his own eyes, and before anyone could stop him, he sprang straight into the volcano with a battle cry. Kimiko and Clay called out in alarm, and Raimundo looked ready to leap after the child. Jack crossed his arms and muttered, “Show off.”

The smallest monk dashed across the lava from rock to rock until he reached the precipice with the black object. He paused and looked around, looking almost puzzled before he hoisted the Moby Morpher off its rock and dashed back across the lava to the others. As soon as he reached the rim, he dropped the Shen Gong Wu on the ground and rubbed his hands on his sleeves, muttering, “It’s hot…”

Jack gave him a golf clap. Clay and Dojo cheered, and Kimiko beamed. “That was amazing, Omi!”

Omi returned her smile with a smug one of his own. “I possess the speed and grace of a cheetah. A simple task like that was too easy for me.”

“Yeah…” Dojo nodded slowly, and his own smile dwindled a bit. “Yeah, that was… really easy…”

Raimundo looked around, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Didn’t Master Fung say that Wuya would try to get the Shen Gong Wu first?” The way he stared at their surroundings reminded Jack of a hawk, checking every detail for a sign of danger.

Omi picked up the Moby Morpher and peered around. “Yes, he did, but where is she?”

The six were silent, waiting for the witch to burst out from the shadows like the boogeyman. However, the only movement and noise came from the faint sizzling and bubbling of the lava nearby.

Clay shrugged and said, “I reckon we just… got here first? Dojo is mighty fast.”

“True…” Dojo drummed his claws against his chin for a moment before he sprang from the hat and expanded back to full size. “Well, if she’s on the way, I’d rather get this Shen Gong Wu out of here before she can cause us any trouble. Hop on!” Jack groaned again, but all five were swift to climb onto the dragon’s back and leave the volcanic island far behind.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Omi woke up right at dawn, and as per the norm, he made his way to Jack’s room to wake him up. The process usually took several minutes, involving plenty of arguing about whether or not Jack could function properly without “getting my twelve hours.” Since the debate usually ended with Omi physically dragging Jack out of the room by the ankle, Jack never won, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

However, when Omi pulled aside the curtain, Jack’s bed was empty. Omi blinked and murmured, “How odd.” He moved on to the next room and peeked inside; Raimundo was gone, too. If Omi hadn’t heard Clay’s bear-like snoring in the next room over, he might have panicked at the thought that _he_ had overslept for once.

He turned just as Master Fung strolled into the hallway and said, “Good morning, young monk.”

Omi bowed. “Good morning, master! Have you seen Jack anywhere? It is unusual for him to be awake this early.”

Master Fung gave a quick shake of his head. “Haven’t seen him. But speaking of Jack, I have something I wish to discuss with you. Now that we have three new Chosen Ones at the temple, Master Monk Chase and I have decided to change the chore assignments.”

“Ah, I see!” Omi nodded. “You wish to make sure the chores are split evenly among the five of us.”

“Not exactly.” At the boy’s puzzled frown, Master Fung smiled and added, “You see, Jack needs far more free time than the rest of you to work on his projects. His genius can’t flourish while he’s stuck doing mindless cleaning. Therefore, we thought it would be better if you did all his chores for him.”

“What?” Omi’s mouth dropped open. “Master, with all due respect, I fail to see the fairness in that! Why is his free time of more value than mine?”

“Because Jack is a genius, and you are not. Your brain is average at best.”

Face turning red, Omi gritted his teeth and stomped his foot. “That is most subjective, Master Fung! Jack does not deserve special treatment just because he can build things! I am the one who fetched the Moby Morpher yesterday, and now you are punishing me for—”

He froze. Master Fung wore a devilish smirk that Omi had never seen on him before. It looked wrong on his face.

Omi’s hands clenched into fists, and he screamed, “ _JACK SPICER_!”

When Raimundo stepped out of the kitchen, he certainly did not expect Master Fung and Omi to run past him, the latter yelling with righteous fury and the former giggling like a mad man. Rubbing at the bags under his eyes, Raimundo took a bite out of his bread roll, slowly pivoted, and walked back into the kitchen.

When the two dashed around the corner, Master Fung crashed right into Master Monk Chase, who stood still as an oak tree while his assailant bounced off him. When the imposter hit the ground, the Moby Morpher flickered into view on his arms. With an odd squelching sound, “Master Fung” morphed back into Jack Spicer.

The pajama-clad redhead waved meekly. Master Monk Chase raised an eyebrow for a second, but before he could say anything, Omi skidded to a stop and pointed at Jack. “Master Monk Chase, Jack is breaking the rules again!”

“Am not, tattletale!” Jack scrambled to his feet and raised his arms over his head to keep Omi from reaching the Moby Morpher. “For your information, I was _testing_ our valuable new doohickey—checking for weaknesses—”

Omi started clambering onto Jack, shouting over him, “Master Fung said we can only get the Shen Gong Wu out of the vault when he says so! I am certain that you do not have his permission—”

Trying to shout over Omi, Jack countered, “Standard protocol to test out any new products for any bugs or glitches—I’m sure these Shen Gong Wu things work the same way—”

Master Monk Chase reached out a hand to the hollering young monks and snatched the Moby Morpher away from them both, surprising them into silence. Voice calm, he said, “Jack, this is not a toy.”

Jack wilted a little at his idol’s disapproving frown, but when Omi shot him a smug grin, he squared his shoulders and said to the elder, “Come on, I didn’t hurt anyone this time! Handled it pretty good, right? Didn’t you see me? I looked and sounded _exactly_ like Master Fung—Pretty impressive, huh?”

“Yes, Jack, very impressive,” said Master Monk Chase. Jack beamed at the praise, but his giddiness was short-lived because Chase added, “Perhaps you can continue to impress us on the obstacle course when we start training this morning. You and Omi will be the first to run it.” Jack’s groan drowned out Omi’s delighted gasp.

* * *

After three incredibly embarrassing minutes of clambering over a brick wall, dodging a flurry of wooden spears with a scream, crawling under swinging crescent blades, and getting walloped in the face by two bags of sand, Jack managed to stagger through the fake rings of fire and collapse at the obstacle course’s finish line. Kimiko hit the timer on the stopwatch and said, “Well, um. Two minutes and 33 seconds slower than Omi, but uh, could have been worse. Probably.”

Omi, whose mood had immensely improved after having the chance to show off, beamed and said, “Not to worry, Jack! You were only six times slower than me this time. That’s far better than usual!” Jack threw the plushie at his face in response.

“I reckon everyone has an off day now and then,” Clay said politely.

Looking bored, Raimundo asked, “Didn’t you say you were an ‘expert on everything Xiaolin’ yesterday?”

Jack hobbled to his feet, blinking rapidly to stop the ground from spinning. Ears reddening at the question, he scowled and said, “Yeah, well, I’m more of a brainy kind of guy. If you’d rather be a brawn, go ahead.” Snapping his fingers, he added with a grin, “Except-- no, scratch that. Clay's bigger, so he's the alpha brawn. You can be the beta brawn.”

Raimundo snorted. “How generous of you.”

Kimiko volunteered to go next, tossing the stopwatch to Omi and charging toward the alligator pit. Though Jack had silently hoped that the dainty-looking Dragon of Fire would be as nonathletic as he was, she gracefully sprang across the alligator heads and front-flipped over the first brick wall. She raced through the course, effortlessly dodging the blades and sandbags, and she rescued the stuffed dog only twenty seconds slower than Omi.

With an apathetic eye roll, Raimundo went next, and the others’ mouths fell open when he dashed across the pit and leaped over the brick wall within three seconds. Omi’s face turned steadily paler as the teen sped through the course, threatening to blow the small monk’s precious record out of the water. However, when Raimundo jumped through the fake ring of fire and landed at the finish line, the others’ stunned silence ended with Jack’s snigger.

“What?” Raimundo asked, eyes narrowing at the redhead.

“You were five seconds faster than Omi,” said Kimiko, peeking over Omi’s shoulder at the stopwatch. “But, uh…”

Omi pointed back to the ring of fire. “You forgot to rescue the dog.”

Raimundo spun around to gawk at his failed objective. Sure enough, the stuffed dog still sat on its pedestal next to the finish line, untouched. Laughing, Jack threw an arm around the teen’s shoulders and said, “That is called ‘dis-qua-li-fi-cation,’ Beta Brawn! Guess who’s not in last place anymore! Do I hear… ‘Jack Spicer’?”

Face flushing, Raimundo peeled Jack’s arm off him and stuffed his own hands in his pockets. Kimiko casually stepped between the two and shoved Jack away before saying, “Alright, Clay, you’re the last one up.”

As the cowboy stepped to the starting line, he asked, “So all I gotta do is be the fastest to get to that doggy?”

“Correct!” said Omi.

“Make sure to actually _get_ the doggy,” said Jack, earning an angry glower from Raimundo.

“Alright.” Clay took a deep breath and struck a pose with his arms out in front of him, one over the other with their wrists touching. Jack bit his lip, lamenting that Clay’s red Xiaolin robes were too loose for him to see biceps that must be as thick as his own head.

“I trust your training is going well?” said Master Monk Chase, redirecting Jack’s attention because even Clay’s biceps couldn’t compete with Chase’s face. The teacher stepped off the porch and joined the group on the field, with Dojo perched on his shoulder.

Omi gestured to the cowboy. “Clay is about to run the obstacle course!”

“What?” said Dojo, digging a claw into his own ear. “Sorry, everything’s been muffled all day.”

Holding up the stopwatch, Kimiko called, “Ready, set, go!”

Clay pulled out of his stance, turned around, and silently scooped the toy dog off its pedestal at the end of the course. Holding out the plushie for the smallest monk, he said, “Here ya go. Reckon I shaved a few seconds off your record, Omi.”

Kimiko and Jack started laughing, and a surprised smile lit Master Monk Chase’s face. Raimundo scowled, and Omi stuttered, “But—but—you were supposed to run and jump and kick!”

Clay shrugged. “I didn’t see the point o’ all that hootin’ and hollerin’ so long as I got the dog.”

“Kinda defeats the purpose of the exercise, doesn’t it?” muttered Raimundo, nose wrinkled. “If you don’t have to actually _do_ anything, then what’s the point?”

Clay’s face fell at the biting question. “The point,” said Master Monk Chase, strolling to the cowboy’s side, “is that sometimes there are simple solutions to complex problems. Clay saw the obstacle course in a different way, and it allowed him to win the challenge with ease.” To the cowboy, he nodded in approval. “Very clever.”

Beaming, Clay said, “Thank you, sir!”

Raimundo muttered to the ground, “ _Real_ problems don’t have simple solutions.”

“Okaaaaaay, Mr. Dark and Broody,” said Jack, elbowing Raimundo in the ribs, “if you want another go at the obstacle course that badly, no one is stopping you.”

“WHAT?” said Dojo, now with three claws digging in his ear. “I can’t hear you kids!”

Chase stared blankly at the dragon on his shoulder, and Clay squinted at Dojo’s ear. Reaching over, he pried the dragon’s hand away and plucked at a piece of string buried within the earwax. The other monks gagged while the cowboy pulled the brown-encrusted cord out of the ear. Dojo’s eyes widened as something large and round swelled up in his head and then burst out with a pop. Before their eyes, a black and white yoyo swung down and dangled from Clay’s hand.

“Dojo…” said Chase slowly, eyes wide and unblinking, “what is _that_ doing here?”

“What is it?” asked Omi.

Chase snatched up the yoyo so swiftly that he spooked Clay into backing away. “The Yang Yoyo hasn’t revealed itself for fifteen hundred years. Dashi hid it in the Ying Yang World.” He frowned at the dragon. “So why do _you_ have it?”

Eyes and nose watering, Dojo slid backwards down Chase’s sleeve, distancing himself from the elder’s glare. “Don’t look at me! I can’t control when the Shen Gong Wu reveal themselves! The Yoyos have always played by their own rules—”

“It’s a Shen Gong Wu?” asked Jack.

“What’s the Ying Yang World?” asked Kimiko.

“Yoyos, plural?” Clay said, pointing to Dojo’s head. “Are there more in there?”

Master Monk Chase glanced up at his students as if he suddenly remembered they were there. Clearing his throat, he said, “It acts as a portal to another world.” He winced at the way Jack’s eyes lit up in fascination. “But it is of little use without its sister Shen Gong Wu, the Ying Yoyo—”

Dojo sneezed so loudly that the force flung him off of Chase’s shoulder. When the others gathered around him, he rubbed at his reddening snout. “I think… I think another Shen Gong Wu just revealed itself.”

Jack pointed at the Yang Yoyo. “You mean that one?”

“Uh-uh,” said Dojo as his nose clogged. “This one makes me sneeze.”

The monks all turned to their teacher, who was still busy staring at the Yang Yoyo like he planned to intimidate it into answering his unspoken questions. Finally, Kimiko said slowly, “I… guess I’ll go get the scroll?”

Chase nodded without looking up at her. “Hmm? Yes…” He started a distracted walk back into the temple, leaving the other monks to shrug at each other.

“What was that about?” asked Raimundo.

“I can explain,” said Dojo, his consonants barely understandable through his stuffed nose. Another sneeze blasted out of him in a burst of fire, sending the monks scurrying backwards. Rubbing at his snout, he coughed and said, “I’ll… I guess I’ll explain later… after my sinuses clear out.”

* * *

While Dojo soared westward, Jack braced himself for his usual upset stomach, but the queasiness he had expected came in a far smaller dose than yesterday. He wondered if maybe he was getting used to Dojo’s undulating. Meanwhile, Omi opened up the scroll and said, “Ah, the Sword of the Storm! I have studied this Shen Gong Wu for many years!”

“Many?” Jack cautiously leaned to get a better view of the tiny monk up front. “How old are you again?”

Omi ignored him. “There are things of which you must be aware when using this wind Shen Gong Wu. Though its blade will pass harmlessly through your opponent, it can be spun so swiftly that it can conjure fierce windstorms! Once an eligible warrior wields the sword—”

“Wait,” said Raimundo, spurring the small monk to glance back at him, “this thing isn’t even a real sword? You can’t stab anyone with it?”

Omi raised a confused and somewhat alarmed eyebrow. “Um, no…?”

“I thought we were being trained on how to defeat evil,” said Raimundo, crossing his arms. “How are we supposed to defeat anyone with a glorified box fan?”

“It is not a box fan!” Omi looked ready to smack the teen with the Shen Gong Wu scroll. “It is an ancient magical artifact! Its powers are far greater than any ordinary sword! I am sure it can easily be used to defeat evil when wielded by competent hands. After all, what makes a warrior strong is not the weapon, but the warrior holding the weapon!”

“Ugh.” Raimundo hunched his shoulders and tugged at the front of his hood. “Sure, whatever. Sounds great.”

An awkward silence followed, one that Kimiko tried to end by pointing at the approaching city. “Uh, check it out, Raimundo! That’s Monte Carlo! You’re gonna love it— You’re from Rio, right?”

“I’m from Tubarão,” Raimundo grumbled. “We moved to Rio when I was little, but that’s not where I’m from.”

“Oh. Um. You still like it there, right?”

“It sucks, actually.”

“Ah.” Kimiko leaned back, scooting away from the grumpy teenager and throwing her hands up in defeat. Clay shrugged and gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Once Dojo landed at the beach next to the enormous city and let his passengers down, he shrank and sniffled. “Sorry, kids, I can’t hone in on this one. You’re on your own.”

“A net cast wide catches more fish!” said Omi. To Jack, he added, “That means we should split up.”

Jack snorted. “I gathered that, Cue Ball. Thanks.”

Clay tipped his hat back and looked around at the barren beach. “We still haven’t seen the likes o’ Wuya anywhere. Maybe we oughta stick together ‘til we have a better idea what we’re gettin’ into?”

“I like the splitting up idea better,” said Raimundo, turning and walking away from the group without another word.

Omi stomped his foot and called after him, “We must decide these things as a team, Raimundo!”

Kimiko rested a hand on her hip and shook her head. “Do you think he’s always like this, or did the obstacle course put him in a bad mood?”

“Aww, I reckon he’ll be fine,” said Clay with a shrug. “We can go find the Sword o’ the Storm ourselves. Raimundo just needs to go chill awhile. I have no idea who spit in his cornflakes, but a lil time alone might do him some good.”

* * *

Raimundo stomped across the beach, kicking up sand and grumbling to himself. Within his pockets, his fingernails dug into his palms. He came to a stop for a moment to gaze across the ocean, and he wondered if the weather was nice enough back home for his siblings to go surfing.

Then a very round man wearing maroon from head to toe passed the corner of Raimundo’s vision, and he turned back to the beach with his eyebrows high. The man wore a long sword across his back, and his ninja outfit covered his entire body and face, leaving only his eyes exposed. He waddled down a hill, facing the ground as if searching for something. Raimundo silently strolled after him.

Just as the teen reached the top of the hill and peered down, the ninja yanked at what appeared to be a piece of driftwood in the sand. Raimundo studied the sword on his back, but before he could decide whether it was a Shen Gong Wu or not, the ninja yanked the object out of the sand, revealing it to be another sword. The new one gleamed gold and was shaped far too impractically for real combat.

Raimundo called down, “Hey. That’s not yours.” The ninja spun around, struck a battle stance, and squinted into the sun high behind the teen. When the man didn’t speak, Raimundo continued, “Let me guess: you’re one of Wuya’s minions?”

The ninja blocked the sun with his gloved hand and huffed at the Dragon of Wind. “ _Hai_! I am Tubbimurra, mighty warrior of the ninja arts! My employers hired me to retrieve the Sword of the Storm, and you will not stop me.”

“More than one boss, huh?” Raimundo raised an eyebrow. “Obviously Wuya is one since you know what the Sword of the Storm is, but who are the others?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Why isn’t Wuya fetching the Shen Gong Wu herself? Where is she?”

“Enough questions!” The ninja took a step back because even though he clearly outmatched this scrawny child, a subconscious part of him was becoming aware that even with all the sand and salt in the air, his opponent had not blinked once in their conversation. “I have what I came for, and I am leaving!”

Raimundo gave an exaggerated sigh. “Look, man, I don’t really want the fake sword that bad, but I got a job to do.” Casually stretching out his palm in front of him, he said, “So why don’t you make things easier for everyone and hand it over?”

“Ha!” Tubbimurra pointed the Sword of the Storm at the teen and braced his knees. “I will not submit to the demands of a puny little boy!”

“That’s a shame.” With the sun high behind him, Raimundo’s hood cast a shadow over his eyes. His head tilted, and a slow, sinister grin spread across his face. “Because by the time the tide rolls out… _you’ll wish you had_.”


	4. Chapter 4

Master Monk Chase stared down at the Yang Yoyo in his palm, wondering if any of the surrounding manuscripts of the scroll room could provide him with any wisdom. Though a part of him wished he had the Ancient Scroll of the Shen Gong Wu to consult, he knew the documents of the Ying and Yang Yoyo were missing from it. (Dojo had blamed a potato famine from the 1400s, but Chase suspected the real culprit had been one of the dragon’s ill-timed fiery sneezes.) Besides, even if he had the missing pages, he doubted they would have told him anything he didn’t already know.

Though Master Fung’s footsteps were silent, Chase still sensed his presence when he strolled into the room. The elder asked, “Is something troubling you?” Chase tilted the yoyo to let the old master see it and add, “A Shen Gong Wu, I presume?”

“The Yang Yoyo is a portal,” Master Monk Chase murmured, “but the Ying Yang World is far too dangerous and unpredictable for our young Xiaolin Dragons to enter. They have barely started training; they are not even apprentices yet.”

Master Fung nodded solemnly. “It sounds like the wisest course of action, then, is to lock this Shen Gong Wu away until the young monks are ready for it.”

“That’s just the thing, though.” Master Monk Chase gave the yoyo a hesitant spin. “Shen Gong Wu are meant to reveal themselves in a certain… order. That is how Dashi designed them: they appear when they are needed most. When the Fearsome Four assemble, the Emperor Scorpion reveals itself to control it. If Sibini were to escape, the Monarch Wings would appear to lure it out. If the Heylin Seed rose to power, the Moon Stone Locust would shortly follow.”

Pretending to closely follow Master Monk Chase’s train of thought, Master Fung wiped his puzzled frown from his face and asked, “Does every Shen Gong Wu have such a direct purpose?”

“Not necessarily.” Master Monk Chase watched the yoyo spin innocently up and down its own string. “Most can be used against any opponent, good or evil. But some are more powerful than others, and it can be quite dangerous for Shen Gong Wu to fall into hands that aren’t ready to wield them. That is why the first Shen Gong Wu to reveal itself is almost _always_ the Mantis Flip Coin.”

“The…? Ah, yes. It allows the holder to leap with the skill of a mantis.”

“Which is something any experienced Xiaolin Dragon can already do,” Master Monk Chase said with a nod and a smile. “But to a novice, the Mantis Flip Coin could be the difference between victory and defeat.”

“So it reveals itself when it is needed most, when the Xiaolin Dragons are still beginners.”

“Exactly.”

Master Fung glanced over at the desk where the ancient scroll of the Shen Gong Wu usually rested. “And yet this generation’s first reveals were the Moby Morpher and the Yang Yoyo. Do you think our young monks will need them to defeat an opponent in the near future?”

Three words Chase hated saying out loud fell reluctantly from his mouth, “I don’t know.” Fifteen hundred years later, and Dashi’s superior, nonchalant understanding of the universe continued to vex him. How could Chase have lived for so many centuries and _still_ not unravel the mysteries behind his old friend’s favorite creations?

Master Fung held out a hand, and Master Monk Chase passed the Yang Yoyo to him. Holding it a little gingerly, the bearded elder said, “Nevertheless, if these two Shen Gong Wu are as perilous as you say, we must ensure they never fall into Heylin hands.”

“That is my other concern, Master Fung: what Heylin hands are we keeping them from?”

Master Fung raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Master Monk Chase studied the Shen Gong Wu in Master Fung’s hands. “Like every generation before them, our young monks have been summoned to the temple to protect the world from a great evil. But Hannibal Bean and Guan have been in hiding for years, and there has been no sign of Wuya since her supposed escape. If any of them were a threat, we would have seen them by now.” Light from the torches in the room shimmered on the Yang Yoyo, flickering between the sharp contrasts of black and white. “Yet something has caused the balance of good and evil to shift, something so dangerous that the temple needs five Xiaolin Dragons to face it.” Master Monk Chase’s gaze lifted to match the other elder’s. “If neither Hannibal, nor Guan, nor Wuya are the threat… then who is?”

* * *

Far too distant for the other four Xiaolin Dragons to hear, Tubbimurra’s voice rang out in terror, “No— _STAY BACK_ —” His voice cut off when his opponent knocked him facedown back into the sand. When he tried to heave himself back up, his bleeding arm nearly buckled. Panting, he grabbed the Sword of the Storm and flung it away from himself. “Keep the sword! I don’t want it—”

The Sword of the Storm landed at Raimundo’s feet. The teen swayed a bit before he kicked the Shen Gong Wu aside. With eyes as empty as poisoned water, he kept his gaze hard and fixed, pointing the ninja’s own sword at him. His grin was gone.

Tubbimurra coughed while he tried to roll onto his uninjured side. “You can keep the other sword, too—I don’t need it—” At Raimundo’s complete lack of a response, the ninja clenched his fists and snarled, “My employers will find out about this— You will not escape them—”

A quick exhale escaped Raimundo like a half-hearted laugh, but he otherwise said nothing. He swirled Tubbimurra’s sword above his own head, scattering flecks of blood in an arc before he sprang forward and struck.

* * *

“Has anyone seen Raimundo?” Omi asked, mouth curving downward. “I fear for his safety.”

Holding his hands over the back of his neck, Jack gave a grumpy shrug. Though the four of them had combed the beach for half an hour, none of them had spotted any sign of a Shen Gong Wu. Jack was starting to wonder why anyone would willingly go to a beach for vacation. Not only was the sun frying his pasty skin, but he could feel the salt and sand caking everything he owned: his shoes, his binder, his hair, his pockets…

A shadow passed over his head. He gave a small yelp right before a large cowboy hat plopped onto him. “Wha—?”

“Sorry to spook ya, partner,” said Clay, quietly adjusting the hat. “Figured this oughta help keep ya from gettin’ sunburned too bad. You’re a mite paler than the rest of us.”

Jack tilted the brim to look up at his tall, muscular rescuer. If anyone asked, his heart _totally_ did not skip any beats. “Oh, w-wow, thanks.” Clearing his throat, he winked and added, “Though I bet I can’t rock the look like you can, huh, handsome?”

He heard Omi make a gagging noise from the tide pool behind him. Clay, who seemed completely oblivious to Jack’s flirting, did not have the chance to react before Kimiko pointed out the way they came and called, “Wait, I think Rai has the Sword of the Storm!”

The group turned just as Raimundo climbed over a sandy hill and slid down the other side toward them, holding a curved, golden sword. Jack squinted at the teen from under Clay’s hat. Raimundo strolled to Omi, dropped the Shen Gong Wu in the smaller boy’s hands, and muttered, “Found it.”

“Great job, partner!” said Clay.

Wide-eyed, Omi watched the sunlight gleam off their new weapon. Head snapping up, he asked, “Where did you find it? Did you see Wuya anywhere? Did you have to fight anyone?”

“In the sand, no, and… nope.” Raimundo gave a bland shrug.

Jack frowned and tilted his head. He had spent the better part of a decade building robots, and he was quite familiar with the fake, dead-eyed expression his creations always wore. He wasn’t sure why, but something about Raimundo seemed just as empty.

“What happened to your shirt?” Kimiko pointed at Raimundo’s hoodie. Though the rest of his clothes were dry, his top was completely soaked and had faint reddish stains on one side.

“I fell in the water,” Raimundo mumbled, not blinking.

Eyeing the stains, Kimiko put a hand on her hip. “Did you, uh, strangle a fish while you were there?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Raimundo snapped, causing her good-natured smirk to drop. “I don’t ask Jack where all the weird stains on his pants come from. I just figure stuff happens and it’s none of my business.”

“Easy there, partner.” Clay stepped between the two and faced Raimundo with a calm frown. “The lil lady was just askin’ a question. But we got the sword and that’s what matters. No need to start a fuss over nothin’.”

“It’s motor oil,” said Jack, gesturing to the stains on his knees, “in case anyone was curious.”

No one paid Jack any attention. Dojo clambered onto Omi’s shoulder and took a deep breath through his snout. “Hallelujah, my sinuses are cleared! Great job, kids!” He beamed at his five students, who remained in their awkward standstill for another moment before Raimundo broke eye contact with the others.

When Dojo sprang onto the beach and expanded to full size, Jack was the first to climb onto his back, eager to escape the heat and salt. Clay and Kimiko followed, and Raimundo took the back of the line. When they looked back at their smallest team member, Omi cleared his throat and called, “Sword of the Storm!” He twirled the Shen Gong Wu downward, and a sudden gust of wind tossed him into the air. He landed on Dojo with an easy front-flip, grinning from ear to ear.

When the dragon lifted from the ground and soared eastward, none of the monks thought to glance back to the beach. Perhaps if one of them had, they would have spotted the masked creature watching them go.

She shook her head in exasperation, and hazy purple tendrils drifted behind her like a head full of snakes. Transparent and unnoticed, she turned and coasted across the beach. Floating over a hill, she paused, and her yellow eyes drank in the aftermath of the battle for the Sword of the Storm. A slow grin spread across her mask, mouth as red as the blood spatter in the sand beneath her, and Wuya chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been brought to you in part by: dramatic irony! A bit of a shorter update than I wanted, but now that we've gotten some exposition out of the way and the plot is kicking into gear, we'll be getting to the fun stuff pretty soon. In case my readers were curious: this fic is an adaptation of an RP binge between me and my friend, curiousCanine. I roleplayed as Xiaolin Jack, and they roleplayed as Evil Raimundo.


	5. Chapter 5

Several weeks after the Sword of the Storm's reveal, the Xiaolin Dragons in training still had yet to combat any Heylin opponents. Though several more Shen Gong Wu revealed themselves, including the Helmet of Jong, the Changing Chopsticks, the Shroud of Shadows, the Fist of Tebigong, the Two Ton Tunic, the Tangle Web Comb, and the Third Arm Sash, no bad guy arrived to challenge them. The other monks swiftly grew bored from the lack of action, but Jack was far too busy with his own projects to care.

Buzzing around inside the brain of his newest robot, yanking the wires around while bobbing his head to the music banging in his headphones, Jack normally wouldn't have heard anyone calling his name. Omi's voice, however, had always been exceptionally shrill and loud. "Jack Spicer! Where are you?"

With an eager grin, Jack spun and buzzed out of the robot. "Changing Chopsticks!" The tiny Shen Gong Wu glowed in his fist, and when he grew back to his original size, he landed on the floor of his bedroom with barely a stumble. Shutting off his helibot, he spread his arms wide. "Hey, Cue Ball! What do you think?"

Omi raised an eyebrow at the absolute mess of Jack's living quarters before he finally pointed at the contraption on Jack's back. "Were you flying just now?"

Jack spun and pointed over his shoulder at the helibot. "Yeah! My grandma gave it to me for my birthday when I was a kid! I had to redesign it a bit, and Master Fung told me I'm not allowed to use it anymore after I crashed into one of the elders-- the one with all the nose hair, walks in a slump-- but anyway, I figured what Master Fung doesn't know won't hurt him--"

Omi studied the circular dragon design on Jack's helibot before redirecting his attention to the piles of metal contraptions all over the floor. "Did your grandmother give you all of this as well?"

"Nope! I found it!"

Omi snorted. "You mean you stole it."

"Did not!" Jack had the nerve to sound offended at the very notion. Lifting a robotic torso from the pile against his dresser, he spun it to show the smaller monk. "I asked Dojo to take me to a few junk yards. I got all this for free! See this plating? It used to be part of a broken washing machine-- And those three Jackbots over there were made from a really ugly orange car--"

"Jackbots?"

"I already told you: that's what I'm calling them! Gotta build a brand name, you know?" Jack shuffled across his mat, knocking aside the remaining chunks of a microwave. Grabbing a stack of blue papers off his desk, he spread them across what was left of the free floor space. "I've been redesigning the blueprints for years, but I never had the parts for them until now-- I'll have to work on their energy consumption; they're eating through batteries in minutes--"

"Jack Spicer, your robotic contraptions will simply have to wait!" Omi gingerly stepped into the room, careful to avoid the pieces of Jack's precious would-be inventions. "Master Fung sent me to find you. He wants you to join the rest of us outside for another training session." Beaming, he added, "I believe the lesson today will be about tiger instincts!"

Jack rolled his eyes and grimaced. "Yippee."

* * *

 

Omi's prediction, as usual, proved to be absolutely correct. Out near the obstacle course, Master Fung opened a chest full of all their Shen Gong Wu, sending Jack a reproachful side-eye when the redhead tried to sneakily toss in the Changing Chopsticks without getting spotted. As the five young monks leaned forward in interest, the elder said, "In today's training, we will divide the Shen Gong Wu among you. The exercise is called--"

Grinning ecstatically, Omi waved his hand up high and answered, "Xiaolin Surprise!"

"Sounds like an appetizer," said Clay. Kimiko and Jack smirked. Raimundo stood a bit behind the four of them, peering out into the distance and looking immensely bored.

Undeterred by Clay's light quip, Master Fung continued,"This is an advanced training technique that relies on a powerful inner force called--"

Omi's hand shot up again. "The instincts of the tiger!"

Jack leaned down and whispered at the youngest monk's ear, "Know-it-all."

Omi said loudly, "Better to know all than to know nothing, Jack Spicer. If you were truly a genius, you would agree with me. But if you believe I am hogging the spotlight, perhaps you can tell us what tiger instincts are?" He looked up to give Jack a bright little grin.

Jack gritted his teeth in a false smile back at the youngest monk. When he realized that Master Fung and the others were silently waiting for him to meet Omi's challenge, he straightened his back and said, "Well, uh, they're kinda like psychic powers? Except not really because, uh... It's about predicting stuff, except you're using your gut instead of your brain...?"

The other young monks stared blankly at him. He sent a nervous glance toward Master Monk Chase, who stood a bit further away from the group with Dojo on his shoulder. Chase nodded in approval, and Jack's fake smile relaxed into a genuine one.

Clay put a finger to his chin. "So they're like some sort o' intuition?"

"Essentially, yes," said Master Fung. "To harness the tiger instincts is to know what will happen before it happens. Jack, Omi, would you two care to demonstrate?"

With a delighted giggle, Omi sprang toward the sparring circle. Jack followed with less enthusiasm, but once they were facing each other in the ring, he cracked his knuckles and narrowed his eyes. "You're going down, Cheddar Head."

Omi bowed. "I admire your confidence, Jack!" He casually spun on his heels to face away from his opponent, hands up in a dismissive shrug. "It must be difficult to maintain your hope for victory against me when you have never achieved it before!"

With a huff, Jack spun around and rested his hands on his hips while Master Fung set all the Shen Gong Wu in the center of the ring. Jack knew he only had a second to choose a weapon, and with Omi's speed and skill, Jack had no hope of beating him in one-on-one combat, not unless...

"Choose your Shen Gong Wu!" Master Fung called.

Jack whirled around and yanked up the shimmering cloth in the pile. "Shroud of Shadows!" As the black and silver fabric covered his body, he disappeared on the field. He bent his knees, ready to charge the small monk-- Omi couldn't fight an opponent he couldn't see--

But when he looked across the circle, Omi pointed his choice of Shen Gong Wu and called, "Sword of the Storm!" The blade spun in his hands, and a massive gust coasted across the field, smacking into Jack like a tidal wave. Jack shrieked and flew back, and the wind yanked the Shroud of Shadows right from his hands. When his back hit the dirt, Omi dashed forward, sprang onto his chest, and tapped him on the nose. "Victory is mine."

Jack shoved a palm into Omi's face and pushed him off. As the littler monk trotted back to the center of the ring, Master Fung nodded and said, "Winner advances. Clay?"

In attempt to preserve his remaining dignity, Jack kept his walk at a casual stroll while he and Clay passed each other. Dusting off his robes (which he'd finally found under a pile of candy wrappers and pudding cups in a back corner of his bedroom), he glanced over at Raimundo, who was still staring out into space and seemed completely uninterested in the ensuing training session.

After Omi and Clay bowed to each other and turned away, Master Fung called, "Choose!"

"Two Ton Tunic!" Clay hollered, crouching into a defensive stance while the impenetrable armor hardened around his torso.

"Tangle Web Comb!" Thick ropes burst from Omi's choice of Shen Gong Wu, wrapping around both Clay and the immensely heavy armor. The poor cowboy swayed and toppled like an oak tree. Omi sprang to Clay's side and patted the ropes until they unwound and vanished.

With a cough, Clay sat up. Once he was on his feet, he offered Omi a handshake. "Whew, you sure are quick on the draw, lil partner."

"Thank you, my friend in the ten-gallon hat!" Omi gleefully accepted Clay's hand and bounced on the soles of his feet. "I could never be certain until now whether my victories were due to my excellence or to Jack's incompetence, but since I have defeated you as well, I know my tiger instincts are without flaw!"

Jack huffed again. Clay sheepishly scratched at his hair. "Oh. Uh. Happy to help."

Perhaps taking note of Raimundo's complete lack of interest, Master Fung narrowed his eyes at the broody teen and said, "Winner advances. Raimundo, would you care to join us?"

Raimundo shrugged and walked into the sparring circle with hands in his pockets. When he stopped in front of Omi, he frowned and asked, "Wait, how old are you?"

Omi blinked up at him. "Um. I am not entirely certain... Jack likes to celebrate my birthday in February, but..." He tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"

Raimundo grimaced and took a half-step back. "I don't like beating up little kids."

At the edge of the ring, Jack guffawed. Omi's face flushed scarlet, and he said coolly, "Do not concern yourself with something that has no chance of happening." Without bowing, he spun away and crossed his arms. After giving an exasperated sigh, Raimundo mirrored him.

"Choose!" called Master Fung.

Raimundo turned just enough to grab his choice of Shen Gong Wu and set it on his head. Back still facing his opponent, he said, "Helmet of Jong."

At the same time, Omi whirled around and yelled, "Third Arm Sash!"

The cloth appendage flew out from his waist, but right before it could make contact with Raimundo's head, the taller teen dodged to the side. When the sash shot past him, Raimundo reached out and snatched it. Jack had just enough time to gasp in shock before Raimundo yanked the Shen Gong Wu and flung Omi across the field. With a startled yelp, Omi hit the dirt and rolled to a stop.

Raimundo's hands went back into his pockets. For a moment, everyone else on the field was too surprised to react. Then Jack raised his arms over his head and let out what could only be described as a victory screech. "THE MIGHTY TIGER HAS FALLEN TO THE BETA BRAWN! _WOOOOOOOOOO!_ "

Sputtering, Omi jumped back to his feet. Eyes round, gawking as if the entire universe had just betrayed him, he pointed at Raimundo and said, "But-- but-- how did you--?"

Barely audible through Jack's cheering, Raimundo shrugged and said, "I dunno, I just picked a useful one."

Master Monk Chase took a step forward and asked gently, "Omi, do you want to try again?"

Face reddening once more, Omi straightened his back and clenched his fists. "No! Thank you, master, but I am quite fine! I can accept defeat most graciously!" Avoiding Raimundo's eye contact, he stomped off the field.

"Winner advances," said Master Fung. "Kimiko?"

Tossing her pigtails with a flick of her hand, Kimiko walked past Jack, who was now grinning so hard that his face hurt. When she and Raimundo faced each other, they gave stiff, short bows before turning around.

"Choose!" said Master Fung.

Raimundo spun around and slammed his choice of Shen Gong onto his hand. "Fist of Tebigong!"

"Tangle Web Comb!" called Kimiko. The ropes sprang from the comb once again, and Raimundo's feet shifted in the dirt to jump away. However, right before the ropes could reach him, they froze in midair. Fist still raised, Raimundo stared while the ropes whirled around and latched onto Kimiko instead. She shrieked and dropped, completely entangled in her own weapon.

"Oh dear," said Master Monk Chase, slowly shaking his head.

Kicking frantically, Kimiko rolled to face Raimundo. "How did you do that?"

Raimundo lowered his Fist of Tebigong before he shook his head at Kimiko. "I didn't do anything. Maybe you're not using your Wu right."

Kimiko opened her mouth to argue, but the ropes tightened around her chest, and her breath came out in a squeak. While Master Monk Chase moved toward her and she stubbornly kicked herself away from him, Clay pointed at Raimundo's fist and called, "Uh, partner, were you about to _punch_ her?"

Raimundo pulled off the Fist of Tebigong and tossed it back into the chest. "Yeah, so?"

Clay's mouth fell open in horror. "You can't hit a girl!"

Raimundo rolled his eyes. "Tell that to one of my big sisters. They'll knock you into a coma."

"I DON'T NEED HELP!" Kimiko shrieked, toppling onto her back a second time to avoid Master Monk Chase's assistance. "I just need to practice!" As Omi approached her from the opposite side, she hoisted herself up to a sitting position and shouted at the small monk, "It worked for you just fine! Why isn't it working for me? You broke it!"

"I did no such thing!" Omi said, stepping back and scowling.

Meanwhile, Jack spotted Raimundo strolling away from the obstacle course, hands in his pockets. Raimundo stole a glance back to check that Master Fung and Master Monk Chase were too preoccupied with Kimiko before he ducked around a corner. Jack raised an eyebrow. Looking around to confirm that everyone else was indeed distracted by Kimiko's predicament, he trotted after the other teen. Darting around the same corner, he called, "Hey, wait up!"

Raimundo whirled around, muscles coiled for battle. When he saw his pursuer, though, he let out a breath and pulled out of his fight stance. "Oh, it's just you."

"Where do you think you're going, Tiger Slayer?" Grinning, Jack nudged him with an elbow. Raimundo wrinkled his nose at the physical contact. "Pretty sure Master Fung doesn't want us leaving until he dismisses us."

"Yeah, well, I won the exercise, so I didn't see a reason to stick around. Didn't really learn anything--"

Kimiko's distant voice drowned out the rest of Raimundo's sentence. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'JUST A GIRL'?"

"Wow," said Raimundo, side-eyeing in the general direction of the obstacle course. "Wanna take bets on when Kimiko will rip Clay's head off? I thought the guy was just a chivalrous idiot, not--"

"Actually, I bet that was Omi." Jack chuckled at Raimundo's raised eyebrows. "He's kinda confused when it comes to girls. He's never lived with one, see? It's just a bunch of old geezers here. Plus he found this book a few years ago called _The Ancient Guide to Females._ No idea where it came from, but it's this massive satire about gender roles and stuff, but I think he missed the 'satire' part."

"Hmm."

As Raimundo's eyes started to cloud in disinterest again, Jack waved his palms and said, "But anyway! The kid is way too full of himself, so watching you throw him across the course was the coolest thing I've ever seen! Knocked him down a peg, that's for sure! How'd you do it?"

Raimundo gave a bored shrug. "It's not that hard. Omi's quick for his age, but he's still just a little kid, and anyone who can't outmatch a little kid probably doesn't belong here anyway."

"Heh." Jack's gaze flickered to the ground.

Raimundo frowned when he saw a muscle in Jack's jaw twitch. After a slow blink, the dull green in his eyes suddenly flickered with alarm. "Well, I mean-- in _your_ case-- Uh-- _You're_ at a disadvantage because... um..."

Jack gave the most casual shrug he could muster, ignoring how sore his shoulders felt from landing on his back earlier. "Hey, man, water off a duck's back. Don't worry about it."

To Jack's immense surprise, Raimundo's face flushed with embarrassment. He cleared his throat and scratched at his hair for a second, but then he furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Why _are_ you here, anyway?"

"Me?" Jack blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're just kinda stuck here, right? Because of your... parents? It's not like you wanted to be here."

Jack's mouth fell open. "Are you kidding? Why wouldn't I want to be here? I'm training to be one of the coolest, most amazing warriors the world has ever seen!" His whole face lit up at the possibilities. "I'm gonna be a Xiaolin Dragon of Metal! I'm gonna have magic powers, and I'm gonna kick all kinds of evil butt!"

"You? Kicking butt?" Raimundo looked Jack up and down, mouth curling at the corner in what Jack refused to interpret as pity. "Dude, I'm sorry the other people living here haven't tried to burst your bubble for your sake, but you're gonna have the snot beaten out of you. You can't even handle that stupid obstacle course out back; how are you gonna face off against an actual bad guy?"

Jack squared his shoulders. "Here's the thing about metal: you can bend and beat it all day long, but it's tougher than you think it is. I'm the same way! If the bad guys show up and kick my butt, then I'll just have to get up and try again! Metal can do amazing things, and so can I!"

"You're not the hero type, Jack," said Raimundo with a dismissive shake of his head, "and even if you were, this place is a waste of your time. None of these magic doodads or your robot toys will make you a warrior, not against the real evils out there."

Jack opened his mouth to start a heated defense over his robot toys, but then he paused at the rest of Raimundo's statement. Tilting his head, he frowned and asked, "But if this place is such a waste of time, then why are _you_ here?"

Raimundo stared at him, expression suddenly guarded. Before he could come up with an answer, he glanced back behind Jack just as Master Monk Chase came around the corner and said, "Jack, please return the Shroud of Shadows. As I have told you repeatedly, the Shen Gong Wu are not toys, and you cannot have them out without our permission."

Jack pivoted. "What? The Shroud of Shadows? I don't..."

Master Monk Chase sighed, trying his best to mask his impatience. "You were the last one to use it, and it's no longer in the chest with the other Shen Gong Wu. Please return it at once."

"But I don't have it." Jack glanced back toward the sparring circle, thinking back to his match with Omi. "I might, uh, I might have dropped it...?" He trotted past Master Monk Chase and back to the ring.

Someone had finally managed to free Kimiko, who sat with her arms and legs crossed near the chest of Shen Gong Wu, scowling at anyone who made eye contact with her. Clay bravely crouched at her side and said, "Aww shucks, I wouldn't worry too hard 'bout it, Kimiko. I'm sure you'll get the hang o' that comb without too much trouble."

"I'm not worried," Kimiko snapped.

Wandering around the ring, Jack glanced out toward the obstacle course and put his hands on his hips. Omi had blasted him with the Sword of the Storm, the Shroud of Shadows had flown from his hands, and then... what? He couldn't remember putting it away, but then wouldn't it still be out here on the ground somewhere? "Um... I don't know what to tell ya, Chase... Maybe it's still invisible?"

Atop Master Monk Chase's shoulders, Dojo shook his head and said, "Not likely. The Shroud of Shadows only turns invisible when someone is using it."

Clay glanced over and stood to join them. "The Shroud of Shadows? Jack had that Shen Gong Wu a minute ago."

"Yeah, but I don't have it anymore!"

"Jack," said Omi, tugging at his friend's robes. "Borrowing things without permission is one thing, but lying to your teachers is another. If Master Monk Chase and Master Fung want the Shroud of Shadows back, you should return it."

"But I don't have it!" Jack spread his arms out wide, eyes round. "Doesn't anyone believe me?"

Omi's mouth pressed into a thin line. Clay nervously tugged at his hat, and Kimiko drummed her fingers on her knees. Master Fung waited near the chest of Shen Gong Wu, hands folded in front of him. Master Monk Chase studied Jack quizzically, but before he could answer, a voice called from behind the group, "Jack doesn't have it."

They all turned to look at Raimundo, who pointed into the sparring circle. "Jack came straight back to the rest of us after he lost, and he stood right in front of me. I could hear him laughing and cheering from the same spot while I was sparring, and then he followed me while you guys were dealing with the Tangle Web Comb. If he had wandered off to get that shroud thing, I would have noticed."

Kimiko's eyes narrowed. "Why were you watching Jack that closely?"

"I watch everyone," Raimundo said bluntly, as if the answer was obvious.

"Did you see where the Shroud of Shadows went, by any chance?" asked Omi.

"No. I didn't think it was that important." Raimundo glowered at Master Monk Chase. "Especially not important enough to humiliate one of your own students in front of everyone just because you lost track of it."

Master Monk Chase's eyes widened in surprise. Jack's hand flew to his mouth, and Dojo nearly toppled off the elder's shoulder in his effort to spin around and snap, "Hey! Show some respect, you little--!"

Master Monk Chase raised a palm, and the dragon huffed but turned silent. The elder said, "Perhaps he is right, Dojo." He turned to Jack. "I apologize, young monk. If you say you do not have the Shroud of Shadows, then it is my duty as your teacher to believe you."

Omi, Clay, and Kimiko glanced aside at each other, clearly doubtful. Still, Jack gave Raimundo a grateful smile before he shrugged at Master Monk Chase and said, "Hey, don't worry about it. I wouldn't trust me, either."

"But if Jack doesn't have it," said Kimiko, standing up, "then where did it go?"

"Omi must've blew it away further than he thought," said Clay. "I reckon it's 'round here somewhere."

Omi nodded thoughtfully. "My skills with the Sword of the Storm are quite impressive."

"Nonetheless," said Master Fung, stepping forward, "Heylin forces are surely waiting for a chance to obtain the Shen Gong Wu themselves. We must be far more careful to prevent them from falling into evil hands."

Master Monk Chase strolled to one side of the chest. "Master Fung and I shall return the rest of the Shen Gong Wu to the vault. Young monks, please search for the Shroud of Shadows." With a wink, he added, "Whoever finds it will not have to do their chores today."

All five students visibly perked and took off into the obstacle course. Chase chuckled and shook his head, but then his mouth curved downward, and he peered up into the sky. A few small birds flitted near the gardens. None of them were crows. No parrot, either. Still, he had a feeling the Shroud of Shadows hadn't drifted away on its own.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Since no one managed to find the Shroud of Shadows, Jack grumbled through his afternoon chores, muttering about child labor laws. Late that night, he crafted the blueprints for a Maid-bot 13.0, but his attempts to build the robot came to a rude stop when Kimiko threw one of her shoes down the hallway and shouted, “Some of us are trying to sleep, Jack! Knock it off with the blowtorch!” Kicking aside his half-assembled bot, he crawled into bed and silently vowed to find some sort of secret location to craft his inventions in peace. A lair, if you will.

The next morning, Omi dragged Jack from his bed by the ankles, as per tradition. Jack trudged to the kitchen and passed Clay and Kimiko at the table. Neither teammate seemed to notice him. Clay, for once, was not paying much attention to his breakfast.

“It's like a state o' mind, I reckon,” he said. “It'll likely be a bit tougher for you since you're a mite more, uh, passionate than the rest of us.”

“Master Fung said I need to 'quiet the storm of my mind,'” said Kimiko, frowning. “What does that even mean?”

“I'm bettin' it means that you got a lot to think about, and maybe you're worried or scared about stuff--”

Kimiko bristled. “I don't get scared.”

“Alright then,” Clay said placidly, “but there's a lot goin' on in your head, right? I reckon Master Fung is sayin' that you need to figure out how to focus on one problem at a time. Like yesterday, when you got stuck in the Tangle Web Comb, you were upset you were stuck, but you were also upset because Master Chase was tryin' to help, and you were mad at Omi, and you were worried that Jack would make fun o' you--”

Face turning scarlet, Kimiko scowled. “You got a point to make here, cowboy?”

“As a matter o' fact, I do: you were thinkin' and worryin' about so many things at once that you were too distracted to solve your problem. It ain't a _bad_ thing to think about a lot o' stuff; it's like... multitasking, you know? But sometimes it's better to let the lil things slide.”

“So, like...” Kimiko pursed her lips, “if I hadn't been trying so hard to argue with Master Chase and Omi, I could have gotten out of the Tangle Web Comb on my own?”

Clay nodded. “I reckon so. I don't blame you for havin' a hard time with it, though. It's tough to focus when somethin's frustratin' you. I figure you just need practice.”

“Hmm.” Kimiko's frown faded. “That's... not bad advice, actually. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to get better at, like, not getting angry, but...”

“Well, you can't control gettin' angry,” Clay said with a shrug. “All you can control is what you do 'bout it.”

Kimiko gave a mildly impressed smile. “You know, you're actually pretty smart, considering...”

Clay raised an eyebrow. “Considerin' what?”

“Considering how you're usually so quiet.” Kimiko playfully elbowed him, and he smiled shyly in response.

Chewing on a banana, Jack decided to announce his presence tactfully. “So are you two gonna kiss or what?”

Kimiko and Clay jumped a bit in their seats before spinning to face him, red-faced. Clay sputtered, “W-we were certainly not--”

“WE'VE BEEN ROBBED!” Dojo scampered into the kitchen, sprang onto the table, and crashed into Clay's pancakes and bacon. Dramatically grabbing onto Clay's neckerchief, the dragon said, “Someone broke into the temple vault!”

* * *

“Who could have done this?” Omi peered down the stairs, anxiously twiddling his fingers while Master Fung and Master Monk Chase puzzled over the empty drawers. “Perhaps Wuya has finally begun her quest of evil?”

“It is possible, young monk.” Master Fung plucked the Changing Chopsticks from its drawer. “Though I am puzzled by our thief's decision to only take a few of our Shen Gong Wu, rather than all of them.”

“It was never Wuya's style to sneak around unseen,” murmured Master Monk Chase, studying the Yang Yoyo in his palm. “Either this was the work of someone else, or something has rendered her powerless.”

“Which Wu are missing?” asked Raimundo, standing next to Omi with his arms crossed.

“The Helmet of Jong, the Two-Ton Tunic, the Third Arm Sash, and the Fist of Tebigong.” Master Monk Chase opened another drawer to confirm that the Moby Morpher was still there. “Along with the Shroud of Shadows, which disappeared yesterday.”

Omi gasped. “The thief must have used the Shroud of Shadows to steal the rest of our Shen Gong Wu!”

“It would explain why they waited until now to make a move,” said Raimundo, eyes narrowing. “Is there a connection between the four that got stolen? Maybe that's why the thief took them and nothing else?”

Master Fung raised an eyebrow at the sharp intake of breath from Master Monk Chase, who looked up at the two younger monks and said, “Perhaps our thief is attempting to summon Mala Mala Jong.”

Raimundo frowned. “What's a mala mala jong?”

Master Monk Chase walked back up the circular staircase until he was eye level with the two young monks. “Mala Mala Jong is the name of an ancient warrior whose spirit was corrupted centuries ago at the passing of the Heylin Comet. His spirit dwells within the Heart of Jong, but he can create a body of his own out of any Shen Gong Wu he possesses.”

“What is the Heart of Jong?” asked Omi. “Is that one of Wuya's weapons?”

“Wait.” Raimundo's eyebrows went up. “All the missing Wu are body parts: a head, a torso, a hand, and an arm. All this thing needs is a set of legs and feet--”

Master Monk Chase gave an impressed nod. “Precisely.”

The four turned to the doorway at the sound of panting. Breathing heavily, Dojo slithered inside and opened his mouth to speak, but Master Fung cut him off, “Dojo, where are the other monks? I asked you to bring them here.”

Dojo grinned nervously. “Heh. Yep, I was working on that, but uh, we sorta... got sidetracked.” He pointed back behind him. “We have a temple visitor.”

Omi gasped and sprang forward, raising his fists for battle. “Who is it? The thief? Wuya? A dark force of evil?”

Dojo grimaced. “Not exactly...”

* * *

“It's a mighty purty temple, Clay,” said Mr. Bailey, elbowing his son, “but it don't look like the kind o' trainin' I had in mind when I let you come here.” He cast a judgmental look toward the elderly monks practicing tai chi out on the grassy field in front of them.

Jack and Kimiko sent nervous glances at each other. Neither of them had expected Clay's dad to make a sudden appearance at the temple doorstep, and they didn't really know what to do with the situation. Personally, Jack was pleasantly surprised that Clay's father would care enough to visit, considering how few memories he had of his own father. On the other hand, Jack had never seen Clay look this uncomfortable before, and he didn't know what to make of that, either.

Clay said meekly, “Daddy, there's more to it than--”

“Where are your teachers?” Mr. Bailey scanned the line of elderly monks, looking for someone he recognized. “I reckon I need to have a talk with 'em about takin' you back home to the ranch.”

At Clay's crestfallen expression, Jack cut in, “Wait! But uh, Clay's been kicking so much butt here!”

Mr. Bailey turned to Jack and looked him up and down, wrinkling his nose at the boy's eyeliner. “Has he now?”

“Yeah!” said Jack, ignoring Kimiko frantically shaking her head out of Mr. Bailey's line of sight. “He's faster than anyone else at the obstacle course. He blew Omi's record out of the water, and Omi's been here for years!” Encouraged by Mr. Bailey's mildly pleased smile, Jack added, “A-and after Wuya starts showing her face, he'll probably kick her butt, too!”

Mr. Bailey's smile dropped, and Kimiko smacked her own forehead. The man turned to Clay, who wilted a little when his father asked, “So you're fightin' ladies now?”

“No, sir!” Clay made a timid effort to square his shoulders. “And I don't plan to start, sir.”

“Your teachers told me you'd be trainin' to face some sort o' evil. So who exactly are ya fightin'?”

The three teens turned awkwardly silent, and then Clay finally admitted, “No one at the moment, sir. We aren't really sure why the Heylin side isn't goin' after the Shen Gong Wu, but--”

Mr. Bailey shook his head. “Sounds like you'd be a lot more useful back at the ranch, Clay, since you ain't doin' anythin' important here.”

Kimiko scowled but said nothing. As the man spoke, Master Monk Chase and Master Fung came from around the corner with Raimundo and Omi trotting behind them. Jack shrugged helplessly at Clay, who said, “But the hunt for the Shen Gong Wu _is_ important!”

Mr. Bailey frowned at his son. “More important than listenin' to your daddy?”

Clay bowed his head. “No, sir.”

“You must be Clay's father,” said Master Monk Chase, giving the man a bow and a smile that seemed a tiny bit forced. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

Mr. Bailey straightened his back to tower over the other two adults. “Clay and I were just discussin' how he's spent enough time here and is ready to come home.”

If Master Monk Chase's smile hadn't been fake before, it certainly was now. “Oh? I would hate to lose him so quickly, especially after all the improvements he has made in his skill and confidence. But if _he_ wants to leave, then I certainly won't force him to stay.”

“No, I reckon you won't,” said Mr. Bailey, putting his hands on his hips. “As long as Clay is livin' under my roof, he follows my rules.”

“With all due respect,” said Master Monk Chase through a thinly veiled glower, “Clay is currently living under _my_ roof.”

Mr. Bailey crossed his arms and huffed, “Well, I reckon that'll be endin' today, won't it?”

Master Fung stepped between them and said calmly, “What Master Monk Chase _means_ to say is that the Xiaolin have always taught respect for the ways of the elders. If you wish for your son to return, we will allow it.”

Master Monk Chase and Mr. Bailey continued to glare at each other until the latter finally turned to his son. “You heard him, Clay. You're comin' back home to Texas where you belong. Say goodbye to your pals, and we'll start packin' your stuff.”

Clay's shoulders sagged. “Yes, sir.” As Master Fung led Mr. Bailey up into the dorms, the younger cowboy turned to the others. With a sheepish shrug, he said, “Well, uh, guess I'm rollin' outta here.” Rather than wait for any farewells, he pulled his hat down and started to trot after his father.

Face flushing, Kimiko darted after him. “Clay, wait!” When he paused and glanced back, she stopped and flailed her hands for a second. “Um-- I'll, uh, I'll practice that stuff you said. About focusing. With the Tangle Web Comb. Okay?” She beamed up at him.

“O-oh.” Clay scratched at his hair, shifting his hat. “That'll be good, I reckon.”

Kimiko nodded and fiddled with one of her pigtails. “But, like, the stuff about letting things slide, that's like... choosing your battles. Which means you let some stuff go, but you still have to _fight_ sometimes, right?”

Clay blinked at her. “I, uh... I guess, yeah.”

“Then, um, I'll keep working on choosing my battles,” She winked at him, “if you work on choosing yours. Got it?”

He smiled meekly, blushed, and ducked his head. “Oh. Gotcha. I'll... I reckon I'll work on that. Thanks, Kimiko.” He shuffled his feet and glanced up at the rest of the group. “And uh, thank you, Master Monk Chase, for trying to keep me here. You too, Jack.”

Jack gave him a thumbs up but had no idea what else to say. When his own parents had been alive, they had never made any attempt to control him. On the surface, kindergartner Jack had considered it a blessing: he could eat as much candy, break as many toys, or taunt as many classmates as he wanted. He could wander away from home and get lost for days, and his parents wouldn't even ground him when he returned. In fact, they rarely noticed at all. Clay's dad was overbearing, but at least he seemed to _care._

“I stand by what I said, Clay,” said Master Monk Chase. “You are a bright student, and I believe you could accomplish great things here. But my opinion has no bearing on the path you choose in life, nor should your father's. Your destiny is your own. Remember that.” He smiled. “And keep practicing your tai chi. Send letters if you have questions.”

“Yes, sir,” said Clay with a nod. Jack glanced at the silent members of the group. Omi had his eyebrows furrowed, but Jack had a feeling he was firmly on Master Fung's side in this situation. Raimundo had his mouth pressed into a thin line and studied the ground, avoiding eye contact. Jack had no idea what was going on in his head.

After another awkward, confused moment, the group made their way back into the temple and reluctantly helped the cowboy pack his belongings. Before anyone could come up with a more heartfelt farewell, Clay's father shuffled his son out the temple, and five became four.

* * *

“Cheer up, kids,” said Dojo a few days later, landing outside a bamboo forest and waiting for the young monks to disembark. Jack slid down and braced his knees once he hit solid ground, but thankfully the usual nausea passed after a few seconds. “I'm sure Clay's doing fine back home.”

“He's probably better off.” Raimundo jumped from the dragon and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “He gets to hang out with his family while the rest of us are stuck on a glorified scavenger hunt.”

“No one's forcing you to stay, cranky pants,” snarled Kimiko. “Why don't you and Clay trade spots, if it sucks so much to hang out with us?”

“We must focus on the task at hand!” Omi jumped between the two glaring teens and waved the Shen Gong Wu scroll in the air. “Remember what Master Fung and Master Chase said about Mala Mala Jong. Whoever stole our Shen Gong Wu still needs a pair of feet, which means it is imperative that we get the Jetbootsu ourselves!”

“Not like we'll have any trouble with that,” said Raimundo, breaking eye contact from Kimiko and starting to stroll toward the forest. “No one's tried to fight us for a Wu before. Why would today be any different?”

The sound of bamboo cracking in the woods made him pause. The monks looked up, and out of the shadows emerged a man with the most chiseled jaw Jack had ever seen. Beetle-browed and bald, he towered over the young monks. Over one extremely wide shoulder draped a thin garland of skulls, and the enormous glaive in his hand pointed directly at Raimundo's throat.

“Xiaolin Warriors,” he said, “we meet at last.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked my friends for help with describing Evil Monk Guan. They provided the following runner-ups:  
> "a veritable titan of flesh" -curiouscanine  
> "you ever see a man so beautiful you start crying" -agenderchaseyoung  
> "a man who looked like he'd been handcrafted from ground beef by the McElroy brothers themselves." -curiouscanine  
> "Donald trump if he were bald and ripped" -nacholatkes


	7. Chapter 7

To his credit, Raimundo barely flinched at the blade near his neck. He stared at the man like a tomcat eyeing a growling dog in his territory, cold and calculating. Jack scooted closer to Kimiko, acutely aware of his lack of robotic back-up or a cowboy to hide behind. Perhaps oblivious to the tension in the clearing, Omi stepped forward and said, "Greetings, honorable stranger. Those shoes are of grave importance to us. May we please have them?"

Bewildered at Omi's words, Jack glanced down. He had been so distracted by the man's giant glaive and gorilla-like arms, he hadn't even noticed the pair of metallic shoes in his other clenched fist.

"Omi!" Dojo curled near Jack's ankles, eyes round. "That's Heylin Warlord Guan!”

Omi's outstretched hand clenched, and his legs carefully shifted under him into a battle stance. Jack tried and failed to contain a small squeak, but Kimiko stared blankly, and Raimundo said, “Who?”

“Heylin Warlord Guan!” Dojo repeated, digging his tiny claws into Jack's mismatched socks. “Servant to Master Monk Chase's evilest enemy, Hannibal Roy Bean!”

“ _Who_?” Raimundo asked again, granting the large man an unimpressed frown.

Guan audibly snarled and peered down at Dojo. “Chase's pet calling _me_ a servant? You're lucky I have no need for more soup today, Dojo Kanojo Cho.” He spat out the dragon's name like spoiled meat. As his attention shifted, his spear's point edged away from Raimundo.

Omi puffed out his chest. “Warlord Guan, for your own safety, I advise that you surrender the Jetbootsu at once.”

“I see Chase's newest ducklings take after him,” Guan said, cracking a sneer at the smallest monk. “He was always exceptionally arrogant.” His spear tilted to point at Omi, and Raimundo watched it move with an odd, conflicted expression of alarm.

“We take after him in skill as well,” said Omi, matching Guan's smile with his own, “as you shall soon discover in your humiliating defeat!” Nine glowing dots appeared on his forehead, and he sprang into action. “ _Water!_ ”

Before Guan could thrust the spear, Omi grabbed onto it and yanked his own body forward, using the weapon as leverage to kick off the ground and fly at Guan's face. Guan swatted him aside, and the small monk smacked into the bamboo. Jack stumbled back in shock, and Raimundo's eyes widened. Leaping into battle, Kimiko cried out, _“Fire!”_ She landed a kick on Guan's arm and bounced right off of him, completely ineffective.

Jumping back to his feet, Omi pulled something out of his pocket. “Changing Chopsticks!” He aimed the Shen Gong Wu at his palm, and the Sword of the Storm expanded in his hand to full size. While Kimiko dodged a thrust of Guan's spear, Omi called, “Sword of the Storm!” Charging back into battle, he cast a gust of wind to send him into the air. With a front flip, he landed right on Guan's skull.

Guan barely winced. He swung his closed fist upward, but Omi summoned the sword and flew into the air again. At the same time, Kimiko pulled a Shen Gong Wu from her own pocket and yelled, “Tangle Web Comb!” Ropes sprang from the comb and shot out at Guan, but they wavered in the air before they could reach. Kimiko gritted her teeth, but before the ropes could pick a definite target, Guan swung his spear and sliced them out of his way.

As Omi landed another kick on Guan's head, Raimundo dashed toward the two. Bending his legs and skidding to a stop at Guan's feet, he yanked something out of his sleeve and sliced it through the back of Guan's ankle. Guan finally stumbled, grunted in pain, and dropped the Jetbootsu. Raimundo planted a foot against Guan's leg to push himself out of harm's way, and when he rolled back onto his feet, he held a bloody switchblade.

Kimiko paused to gawk at him. “You have a _knife_?”

Raimundo glanced at her. “You _don't_?”

“Jack Spicer!” Omi called, clinging to each of Guan's ears. “Get the Jetbootsu!”

With a start, Jack realized he had been standing motionless for several seconds. “R-right!” He ran to the dropped shoes, scooped them up, and dodged one of Guan's swinging arms with a shriek. Baring his teeth, Guan spun to face him. Jack stammered, “M- Met--”

Guan opened his mouth and roared. Omi tumbled down with a squeal, and several horns sprouted out of Guan's head. A mud-colored, thorny exoskeleton encased his skin. His arms somehow grew even bigger, morphing into enormous lobster claws. His jaw unhinged, his eyes turned scarlet, and the newly formed monster bellowed down at the petrified monks.

Jack screamed and fled.

“Jack-- _Jack Spicer_ \--” Omi staggered backward as Guan's webbed tail swung past him. With an audible gulp, Omi squared his shoulders and yelled, “Sword of the Storm!” The wind tossed him back up, but one of Guan's massive pincers snatched him out of the air. Omi yelped and flailed, flattening the Sword of the Storm against his own body and perpendicular to the pincers clamped around his torso. While Guan's grip tightened, the sword's width kept Omi from being sliced in half.

Raimundo leaped onto Guan's back and stabbed the switchblade into his shoulder. The blade snapped against the exoskeleton. Guan spun in place, swinging Omi around with him as he tried to reach back and grab Raimundo. Kimiko jumped and aimed a punch at Guan's face, but Guan caught her arm in his massive jaws. As the creature's teeth broke through her skin, Kimiko screamed. Raimundo grabbed onto two of Guan's horns, front flipped over his head, and kicked him in the eyes.

The monster roared, dropping Kimiko. He threw Omi aside, and the small monk hit and bounced off the ground. Catching one of Raimundo's legs in his pincers, Guan swung the teen overhead and slammed him into the dirt. Kimiko pressed her injured arm to her chest while she scrambled to dodge Guan's clawed feet.

All the while, Jack Spicer watched the beatdown from within the bamboo forest, clutching the Jetbootsu against his chest. His eyes snapped to Omi, who was somehow heaving himself to his feet despite something across his torso staining his robes a darker red. As Guan's other pincer reached around Raimundo's skull, Omi picked up a dead bamboo stick and threw it. It bounced harmlessly off of Guan's back.

Raimundo panted and gritted his teeth, but his body was too stunned to move while Guan's pincers clasped around his head. Omi yelled, “Raimundo, no!” The teen weakly grabbed at the pincers and squeezed his eyes shut. A strangled noise escaped Jack's throat, and then something slithered against his ankle.

Dojo sprang away from Jack's legs and expanded to full size. With a bellowing roar, he blasted out a fireball that slammed into Guan's tail. When Guan dropped Raimundo and turned, Dojo reached back and snatched Jack out of the forest. Jack screamed again while Dojo swirled across the battlefield, snatching up all three of the other monks and retreating out into the open sky.

* * *

Several hours later, Master Monk Chase stood outside the infirmary doorway, head bowed. Though he seemed perfectly calm on the surface, his closed mouth held clenched teeth, and his hands twitched angrily under his sleeves. When Master Fung stepped out of the infirmary with Dojo on his shoulder, Chase snapped his head up and said, “How are they?”

“They will all make a full recovery,” said Master Fung.

Noticing Chase's scowl, Dojo clarified, “Raimundo's pretty battered, Kimiko's got some puncture wounds on her arm, and Omi's got a couple cracked ribs and some nasty-looking cuts around his chest. Jack's unscathed but spooked.” After a pause, he added, “I'm also unharmed, thank you for asking.”

“I should have known that Guan would show up sooner or later.” Dropping the serene facade, Chase gripped at his hair and started pacing down the hall, barely keeping his words at a low whisper. “I should never have allowed them to go hunting for the Shen Gong Wu alone. I _know_ Guan; if I had gone with them or gone alone--”

“He does this every generation,” Dojo said into Master Fung's ear while they followed Chase. “Every new batch of Chosen Ones, every new group of kids... the moment they get hurt, Chase fusses and fusses like a mother hen and decides that he's going to take over their jobs for them--”

“This is different, Dojo!” Chase snapped. “These children... they weren't prepared! I failed to prepare them for this battle, and they paid the price!”

“None of us could have predicted Warlord Guan's attack,” said Master Fung kindly, “not after his years of inactivity, and especially not for the Jetbootsu.”

“But see, that's what I'm wondering about,” said Dojo, putting a claw to his chin. “Why would Guan come after this Shen Gong Wu and none of the others?”

Chase took a long breath and came to a stop at the open doorway to the porch. “Guan came after the Jetbootsu because Hannibal Bean sent him.” Scowling out past the porch, he said, “They must have been spying on us, learning about the young monks before they chose to strike.”

“They waited to attack until after Clay left the temple,” murmured Master Fung. “Perhaps they saw Clay as a threat?”

Chase shook his head. “Clay is certainly the closest physical match to Guan, but I doubt Hannibal Bean could have predicted Mr. Bailey's arrival, not unless he somehow manipulated Mr. Bailey himself.” He frowned deeper at the possibility. “I shall check on the Bailey ranch to find out. Until then, I believe the two events are merely coincidence.”

Dojo sprang from Master Fung's shoulder to Chase's. “Do you think Hannibal Bean could be the guy who took our other Shen Gong Wu? The Shroud of Shadows and the others?”

“It's possible, but he has never had any interest in Mala Mala Jong, not when he already has Guan as his willing minion.” He crossed his arms and shook his head again. “If he were our thief, he would have taken the Yang Yoyo and the Moby Morpher. Those two Shen Gong Wu would be disastrous in his hands.”

“Then perhaps Hannibal Bean is acting in response to the thief?” mused Master Fung. Chase and Dojo turned to look at him, and he continued, “He was content to observe at first. Maybe he did not know how to break into the vault. However, now that someone else has successfully done so, he wishes to steal the Yang Yoyo and Moby Morpher before the thief can.”

Chase's lips pulled back into a grimace as he finished Master Fung's train of thought, “So he had Guan attack our students to weaken us, leaving me as the only defender of the Shen Gong Wu.” Moving swiftly down the porch and toward the vault, he said, “Then I am left with no choice: I will take the Yang Yoyo and the Moby Morpher away from here. I will lead Hannibal Bean and Guan away while the young monks recover--”

“There's the mother hen again,” said Dojo.

“No, Master Chase,” said Master Fung. The certainty in his voice made Chase pause in his path. Master Fung calmly stepped between him and the vault. “There is no honor in senselessly marking yourself as bait. You know how to combat Guan better than any other warrior alive. You must stay here and teach the young monks how to fight him.” He gestured out toward the dark horizon. “The northern temple further into the mountains has another vault. _I_ will take the Yang Yoyo and Moby Morpher, and I will hide them there.”

Chase's breathing slowed as he pondered Master Fung's logic. Slowly, he said, “Hannibal Bean certainly won't expect an elder monk to carry something so valuable.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “But you are meant to be the main teacher to this generation of Chosen Ones. You would need another reason to leave, an _excellent_ reason, to keep Hannibal Bean from growing suspicious.”

“Master Chase, I have somehow survived years of Jack Spicer's mischief and robotic antics.” Master Fung chuckled. “Do you think anyone would doubt my need for a vacation?”

* * *

Jack Spicer sat on the infirmary bed with his legs crossed, fiddling with a computer chip he had found in one of his many pockets. Next to him, the other three monks lay in their own beds. Kimiko propped herself up with several pillows, holding her bandaged arm gingerly. With his leg elevated and in a splint, Raimundo glared up at the ceiling with more rage than Jack had ever seen in him. Omi idly tugged at the gauze wrapped around his middle and held an ice pack to his forehead.

Voice weary, Kimiko finally said, “Master Monk Chase sounded really mad.”

“He must be disappointed in us after our humiliating defeat,” said Omi.

“We can bounce back, though!” Jack smiled weakly. “And we got the Shen Gong Wu, so really, we won the battle, right?” Omi gave a derisive snort and pointedly turned his head away.

“It doesn't feel like we won.” Kimiko carefully sat upright and looked across the beds. “Why did it take so long for Dojo to jump in? He's bigger than Guan. Couldn't he have turned the tide sooner?”

“Warlord Guan eats dragons,” said Omi, causing Kimiko's face to pale. “His monster form is perfectly designed to kill them. Dojo told me so. He is terrified of Guan, and he would not win in a battle against him. He only jumped in when he had no other choice. He is a brave dragon.”

Twiddling her fingers, Kimiko sighed and turned her gazed down to her bedsheets. “I bet things would have gone differently if Clay had been with us.”

“Things certainly would have gone differently if all _four_ of us had been fighting.” Omi finally made eye contact with Jack, sending him a withering glower.

“What? I panicked, okay?” Jack's voice rose an octave while his arms wrapped around himself. “That Guan guy was massive! At least I got the Jetbootsu! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Guan's size did not stop the rest of us from _trying_ ,” Omi spat. “What are you even doing in here? You are not injured. You ran away like a coward before Guan could touch you.”

Kimiko cradled her arm. “Yeah, Jack, you kinda bailed on us. Thanks a lot.”

“I told him he wasn't cut out to be a Xiaolin Dragon,” murmured Raimundo, the only one not glaring at Jack. Instead, his hateful gaze remained fixed at the ceiling.

Jack winced anyway. “Come on, guys, I'll do better next time!” Perking up, he held up the computer chip and grinned. “How about this? My Jackbots are almost fully assembled, and they're going to have laser guns and all kinds of other weapons. We'll bring them with us, our own Xiaolin army! Guan won't stand a chance!”

Kimiko shrugged. “I guess that's better than nothing...”

To Jack's horror, Omi's eyes turned watery when he said, “If Guan threatened to crush _you_ into two pieces, Jack Spicer, I would not rely on robots. I would save you myself.” Wincing at his own movement, he rolled to his side to face away from Jack.

“Come on, Cue Ball, I'm sorry...” Jack's voice cracked when he heard Omi sniffle, but the younger monk otherwise did not respond. Kimiko sighed and lay back down, choosing to look away as well. Jack turned frantically to Raimundo, whose angry gaze at the ceiling finally shifted to Jack and softened into pity, which was far, _far_ worse.

Jack scrambled out of bed and left the room. Though his Jackbots would soon be capable of many things, they weren't going to build themselves.

 


	8. Chapter 8

When Master Fung left the temple the next morning for his self-appointed vacation, Jack made his best effort to appear appropriately solemn. He didn't dislike Master Fung or anything, but the old man rarely seemed to have anything better to do than stifle Jack's creativity. As soon as the elder disappeared into the mountainous horizon, Jack quietly tapped at his wristwatch, and Maid-bot 13.0 buzzed out of his room to finish the laundry.

Over the next couple of days, the other three monks kept trying to sneak out of the infirmary, but with Master Monk Chase prowling around the temple, they did not get far. With nothing else to do, Omi paced back and forth near his bed like a caged gerbil, Raimundo grumbled at the ceiling like he was planning a bank robbery with it, and Kimiko practiced with the Tangle Web Comb.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it, Clay," she said into her phone the second morning. (No one knew exactly how she had tracked Clay's home phone number; he had definitely been too shy to give it willingly.) Summoning the Wu to catch a water bottle across the room in its strands, she begrudgingly added, "It's a lot easier in here, though. Not a lot of distractions."

Omi leaned against her bed and said, "Ask Clay if his father is willing to reconsider his withdrawal from the temple. Now that Warlord Guan is at large, we need all the warriors we can get."

Kimiko set the phone on speaker, and Clay's voice echoed fuzzily across the room, "Uh, I'll try, lil partner, but my dad kinda... I gotta wait for him to be in a good mood for that kinda talk, y'know? I reckon he doesn't like Master Chase much, and he said a bunch of stuff about... Well, uh, he doesn't think the folks at the temple are a good influence on me."

Kimiko raised an eyebrow, idly watching the Tangle Web Comb's strands lightly set the water bottle back down. "What do _you_ think, Clay?"

"Me? Uh." Clay cleared his throat, a scratchy sound through the line. "I miss y'all a lot, and I think what you're doing is more important than... stuff here. But I can't do a lot without my dad's say-so. Um. Kimiko, if you're thinkin' the Comb is too easy to use without distractions, then uh, maybe you could ask Omi to distract you?"

To Kimiko's chagrin, Omi clambered onto her bed. “An excellent idea, Clay! I shall gather my chi and unleash my fearsome Tsunami Strike! It is quite advanced!” He struck a dramatic pose, and Kimiko rolled her eyes.

Raimundo bolted up in bed, eyes on the doorway just as Master Monk Chase strolled into the room and said, “The three of you are supposed to be healing, but if you insist on performing martial arts and practicing with Shen Gong Wu, then you may as well do so outside on the training grounds.” He raised an eyebrow at the ropes whipping across the room and zapping back into the Tangle Web Comb, which Kimiko shoved behind her back with a guilty smile.

“Does that mean we're free to go?” asked Raimundo.

“You and Kimiko have adequately recovered from your injuries,” said Chase. He gave Omi a rather pointed look. “Cracked ribs, however, take weeks to heal.”

“I am quite well, Master Monk Chase!” Omi lifted his leg high to struck another pose, fighting a wince with all his might. “Besides, it is my duty as the Xiaolin Dragon of Water to be ready to face evil at any time!”

Before Chase could make his rebuttal, Kimiko held up her phone. “Master Chase, say hi to Clay!”

Chase blinked at the neon pink cell phone, through which Clay's voice fuzzily said, “O-oh, howdy, Master Chase. I've been practicin' tai chi like you said. And uh, if you don't mind me sayin', I reckon Omi is ready to scrap again if he says so.”

Chase gave a small smile, but then his expression turned serious as he moved toward Kimiko's bed. “Yes, perhaps so. Clay, if you do not mind me asking, have you noticed your father acting peculiar lately?”

“Uh... not really. What'd'ya mean, peculiar?”

“It means odd,” said Omi.

Chase carried on, “I am merely making certain that your departure and Guan's arrival have nothing to do with each other. Have you witnessed any crows around your home? Or a red and silver parrot?”

“No, sir. Got a lot o' turkey vultures, though. Some sparrows and cowbirds here n' there. I'm hoping we'll see some egrets soon...”

“What do birds have to do with Guan?” asked Kimiko.

“Guan and Hannibal Bean have an army of shape-shifting servants,” explained Chase. “They take the form of crows when they spy on their enemies. The parrot is Hannibal Bean's steed, Ying Ying. If you see her, then Hannibal Bean is nearby, and you must exercise extreme caution.”

“Right. Uh. You said 'steed,' right? So am I lookin' for a giant parrot, or is this Hannibal Bean fella really small?”

“He is indeed quite small.” Chase nodded grimly. “As his name implies, he is an actual bean.”

Kimiko's eyebrows rose into her hair, and she glanced at Omi, who solemnly bowed his head. After a pregnant pause, Clay asked, “Like... like the kind you eat?”

“I would strongly advise against attempting to eat Hannibal Bean,” said Chase. “I cannot begin to imagine the indigestion you would experience from consuming such evil.”

Omi lifted a finger. “Hannibal Bean is a far greater threat than his size implies. He has unleashed many horrific forces into the world, and he has Heylin Warlord Guan under his thumb... that is, if he had a thumb.”

From the other side of the room, Raimundo crossed his arms. “And you two waited until now to tell us about him because...?”

Fingers folded in front of him, Chase turned to the teen. “Neither he nor Guan have been spotted for years. They waged their last attack before Omi or Jack set foot in the temple, and then they disappeared. They've gone through dormant periods before, so I thought our main threat would be Wuya. It seems that I misjudged the situation.”

Clay's voice rose up through the phone again, “So lemme make sure I got this straight: y'all have Guan and this Bean fella in cahoots, and you have Wuya out there somewhere, and you have someone stealin' Shen Gong Wu outta the vault who may or may not be one of those three baddies?” He let out a low whistle. “Y'all got your hands full, that's for sure. Wish I could help.”

“You could try running away from home.” Kimiko gave an impish smile.

To everyone's surprise, Clay snapped, “I ain't like Jessie, I'm not gonna--” He paused and loudly cleared his throat. Voice low and polite once more, he continued, “Uh, never mind. I'll try talkin' to my dad again. We'll see how it goes. But I probably oughta roll out, actually. If I bring the phone bill up too much, he ain't gonna be happy, so... I guess I'll talk to y'all later.”

“Sure thing, Clay, we'll keep you posted.” Kimiko clicked the phone shut and gave an aggravated sigh. She looked up at their teacher. “He's got a point, though: we have our hands full. What's the plan?”

Chase's mouth pressed into a thin line. For a moment, the young monks almost thought he looked nervous. But then he lifted his chin and said, “The plan is to resume training. Our focus shall shift toward combating Heylin Warlord Guan. I have determined that he is your biggest current threat.”

“Literally,” said Omi with a nod.

Chase's mouth twitched in what might have been amusement. “Omi, please fetch the Shen Gong Wu scroll. Raimundo, go find Jack. Kimiko, you and I will go to the vault for our remaining Shen Gong Wu, and we will all meet in the training grounds.”

Like a pack of dogs finally freed from their crates, the three monks bounded from their beds and ran off to complete their prospective tasks. Once Raimundo stepped around the corner, though, he huffed and slowed to a walk. He doubted Jack would be hard to locate.

Sure enough, as he made his way toward the monks' bedrooms, Raimundo heard the telltale clang of metal hitting the wood floor. Kicking aside the curtain in front of his room, Jack Spicer stepped out with an armful of shiny, silver clutter. As a robotic head tumbled from the pile in Jack's arms, he stumbled in a valiant attempt to dodge it. “Great. Okay. Guess I'm coming back for you.” He looked up and spotted Raimundo. “Yo, hey, Beta Brawn!”

“That's not my name,” said Raimundo, idly watching another robot part fall to the floor, “and it's not going to catch on.”

“Oh, come on, everyone loves nicknames.” Jack strolled to the other teen. “I prefer 'Xiaolin Boy Genius' myself, but you can come up with your own if you want. Maybe 'Alpha Brain' if you want to be matchy about it. Hey, can you hold these?” In a surprisingly swift movement, he dumped the entire armful of parts into Raimundo's arms.

“Uh.” Raimundo frowned at the pile while Jack went back and picked up the two parts he had dropped. “What is all this?”

“Mostly extra stuff I found in my underwear drawer. I already moved my biggest projects to my new lair.” Eyes lighting up, he trotted back to Raimundo and grinned. “Speaking of which, wanna see my new lair?”

“You have a lair?” Raimundo echoed blankly.

“Yeah! I got the door unlocked yesterday! You know that big statue in the greenhouse? There's this button on its head, and it opens to this big creepy tunnel, and there's a door-- Come on, I'll show you!” Jack trotted up the hallway and back around the corner, heading toward the temple entrance. Raimundo's eyes slid down to the robot parts in his arms and then back to Jack's room. With a half-hearted grumble, he shifted the parts around until they were easier to carry, and he followed Jack through the temple and out the door.

After the two boys passed through the courtyard and into the greenhouse, Jack climbed onto the Buddha statue against the opposite wall. “I actually figured this part out years ago-- Omi and I were playing hide and seek, and I tried hiding behind this statue, only to-- yep!” He pressed a dot on the statue's forehead and jumped back, and Raimundo watched the statue pivot in place, revealing a stone staircase underneath its hollow shell.

Jack pulled a small flashlight out of one of his cargo pants pockets and lit it while he strolled down the stairs. “I didn't actually explore the place at first. Scared of the dark... when I was little, anyway. But y'know, got over that. I asked Master Fung and Dojo what was in here, and they told me I was never allowed to come down here under any circumstances. So I went exploring.”

Gingerly trailing after the redhead, Raimundo's mouth curled upward. “Not much for listening to authority, huh?”

“Not my strong suit, no.” Jack glanced back and winked up at him. “Can't be perfect at everything.” Raimundo snorted.

At the end of the short set of underground stairs, they reached a door decorated with painted, stone flowers. It had no doorknob, but a cement block had it propped open. Jack pointed at the door as he passed it. “This was the hard part. Took me _forever_ to get through this door. No lock on it anywhere. I thought about blasting it, maybe some laser beams or a teeny bit of dynamite or something, but that would be too noisy. Then I figured, you know, the Shen Gong Wu vault opens from a specific tune with the wind chimes. Maybe this door had some weird, sneaky trick to it, too--”

Raimundo stepped inside and raised an eyebrow at the creepy stone dragon in the center of the room. A lit, battery-operated lantern sat in the statue's open mouth. Under its head lay a large treasure chest, but robot parts littered the rest of the floor. Meanwhile, Jack kept babbling, “Anyway, long story short: the door responds to water. I'm gonna try to clean the place up a bit-- Maidbot already dusted everything, but I'm gonna need some tables and better lighting--”

Still staring up at the statue, Raimundo asked, “And uh, it didn't occur to you that maybe the door was locked for a reason?”

“Well, duh, of course it did, but there's nothing in here.” Jack finally came over and scooped the pile of robot parts out of Raimundo's arms. “Just this big ugly statue and that box underneath it, and the only thing in the box is another, smaller box, so I'm keeping all my batteries and stuff in there.” He kicked the treasure chest open and unceremoniously dumped the armful of contents into it.

Raimundo studied the metallic chaos at his feet more intently. Among some wrinkled blueprints, he spotted a few vaguely human-shaped heads and arms scattered between piles of wires and bolts. Off to the side, Jack seemed to have dug out the contents of an old television and a microwave. However, in the cleanest corner of the room, Raimundo spotted five bronze figures leaning against the wall. Pointing, he asked, “What are those?”

With a delighted gasp, Jack spun and tapped at a button on his wristwatch. “Ooh, I'm so glad you asked!” At his command, the five creations buzzed to life, eyes lighting red. Though they had no legs, and their arms remained relaxed at their sides, they vibrated and rose into the air. Jack sprang across the room and held out his arms dramatically. “Meet my new Jackbots! Fully crafted by yours truly, state of the art, and made to wreck any Heylin baddie that comes our way!”

Raimundo stepped a little closer and leaned over to poke one of the Jackbots. “How do they work?”

“Uh, well, they uh--” Jack cleared his throat. “They've got laser guns, and they've got these razor blade thingies that they can swap with their arms, and all I have to do is set them to battle mode, and they'll take off and fight all by themselves! No need to command their directions or anything!”

Raimundo glanced over and noticed that Jack was biting his lip. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “But...?”

Jack shuffled his feet a bit. “Well, uh, I can't send them to battle juuuuust yet. Right now they're programmed to protect me specifically. If I were fighting alone, it'd be no problem, but I haven't quite figured out how to reprogram their battle chips so they recognize _you_ guys as allies.” When Raimundo jumped back, Jack waved his hands and added, “No, no, it's fine! They're in standby mode now, so they won't hurt you!”

As Jack tapped at his wristwatch again and let the Jackbots gently settle back down on the floor, Raimundo asked, “You said they fight by themselves? You don't have to control where they go? How do they know not to run into walls and stuff?”

“Ooh, good question!” Jack jumped over the innards of a broken printer and grabbed two disc-shaped objects on the floor. “That was something I figured out when I was six-- I had to live with my granny for a few months, and she had all this expensive china and stuff in all the cabinets, so I had to design robots that could fly around without running into things. Took me forever to get the coding right, but look! My first ever hoverbots!” He tossed one of the discs across the room, and right before it could hit the wall, it buzzed to a stop. Like a tiny helicopter, it floated around the lair, smoothly dodging the dragon statue and landing back in Jack's open hand.

Raimundo couldn't help but stare. “Wow, that's actually... kind of cool.”

Jack beamed at the praise. “I know, right? You really think so?”

“Yeah, Miguel and Marcos would be losing their minds if they were here now--” Blinking, Raimundo scratched at his hair.

“Miguel and Marcos?” Jack echoed.

“My little bros.” Raimundo shrugged and studied the floor. “Twins. They were going through a big tech phase last time I saw them, really into robots and aliens and stuff. They took over my half of the room when I left... I bet they wrecked it. Oh well.”

“Man, I wish I had little brothers to mess with-- I mean, I kinda sorta adopted Omi when I was nine; we have some adoption paperwork I wrote with crayon on a napkin somewhere, but _anyway_ \--” Jack stepped over a robotic head and held out the two discs to Raimundo. “You think your bros would like these? I have the coding memorized, so I don't need 'em anymore.”

“You-- what--” Raimundo stammered when Jack shoved the two discs against his chest, forcing him to grab them. “I-- No, I mean--”

“Maybe they got birthdays coming up or something? They're way better than those drone toys you see in the malls. Oh! I could paint them, too, if you want! Do your bros have favorite colors or anything?”

Staring down at the little hoverbots, Raimundo's cheeks flushed, and he mumbled, “I don't really have anything to trade back to you...”

“It's not a trade, you dummy. You can have them!” Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets, grinning awkwardly. “They can be a thanks-for-listening-to-me-ramble-about-my-robots present. No one else at the temple thinks they're interesting. Master Monk Chase sometimes listens, but I think he's just being polite.”

“Master Monk Chase? He...” Raimundo took in a quick breath. “Oh. Master Monk Chase is waiting for us at the training grounds. He's gonna teach us how to fight Warlord Guan.”

“Wait, what?” Jack's smile dropped, and he gawked. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Flushing again, Raimundo muttered honestly, “I forgot.”

“Well, gee, okay--” Jack kicked aside a few parts as he made his way to the door. “We better head out there, then. I'll figure out the Jackbots later-- Do _not_ move that cinder block; I had to take a bunch of wild guesses to get that door to open, and I don't think I could do it a second time-- Come on!”

Jack sprang over the cinder block holding the door open and dashed up the stairs. Raimundo took a half-step after him, but then he glanced back down at the two little hoverbots in his hands. After a long pause, he bent his knees and gently set them back onto the floor. Frowning at the fingerprints he'd left, he wiped the two bots clean with his shirt sleeve. Shoulders slumped, he scratched roughly at his hair and bolted up the stairs after Jack.

 


	9. Chapter 9

When Jack and Raimundo joined the others outside, Master Monk Chase did not comment on their tardiness. Kimiko raised an eyebrow, but Omi did not acknowledge Jack's presence at all. Once the four were lined up across from him, Master Monk Chase stepped back onto the open field and said, “The Heylin side has finally risen to challenge us. Today's training will be focused on building your skills to confront Heylin Warlord Guan.”

Omi raised his hand. “But Master, I fought him with all the skill and expertise I already have, and Kimiko and Raimundo did the same. None of us were a match. How can we possibly improve swiftly enough to defeat Guan?”

“Can anything break through his exoskeleton?” asked Raimundo. Putting a finger to his chin, he looked down. “I wonder if he's bulletproof...”

Kimiko's eyes slid slowly to stare at Raimundo, and they widened in further alarm when Jack gasped and added, “Ooh! Or laser guns!”

Master Monk Chase briefly turned his gaze skyward and sighed before resuming eye contact. “Warlord Guan is 1,500 years old. I am fairly confident that if a gun could defeat him, then someone would have shot him by now. As it stands,” He squared his shoulders and studied each of the monks, “the four of you are the Chosen Ones, the world's main defense against the Heylin forces of evil. You are the only ones who have any hope of beating him.”

“How?” Omi asked again, hand still over his head.

“The four of you must practice against someone with Guan's level of skill, someone who knows all his tricks and can learn yours.” Chase unfolded his fingers and bent his knees in a battle stance. “Young monks, for this exercise, you will have to attack me.”

Jack gasped, and Omi visibly flinched. “You? But Master Monk Chase, you are our teacher!”

“And as such, I promise to go easy on you, little one,” Master Monk Chase said with a wink. Omi's face reddened, and their teacher added, “Any of you may attack at any time. In fact, I am certain that some level of teamwork will be required for you to have any success.”

After a few more seconds of hesitation, Omi finally shifted his feet under him to match Master Monk Chase's posture. Jack bit his lip and looked around at the others. Raimundo sauntered away from the group as if to quit the exercise entirely, but Jack noticed that his eyes remained on the elder monk, and his feet slowly took him in a lazy arc. Taking his cue, Kimiko slowly started moving in the opposite direction, flanking Chase's other side.

The elder monk kept his gaze trained on Omi, who was the first to leap forward with the cry, “Mantis Kick!” Chase dodged effortlessly, tossing his long hair back behind him as Omi landed on his hands and rolled forward to a stop. Springing back up, Omi spun around and charged again. “Monkey Strike!” As the boy leaped, Chase blocked his fists with his own palms and tossed him back.

From atop the monkey bars behind Chase, Raimundo huffed and called, “Stop calling your attacks out loud, Chrome Dome! You're giving yourself away!”

When Omi sat up, blinking slowly, Master Monk Chase turned and nodded in approval. “A good point, Raimundo. Giving your teammates advice improves the odds of your success.” Raimundo frowned and covered his mouth with his fingers, looking surprised at himself for saying anything.

After Omi stood and dusted off his robes, he sprang forward once more. This time, his attacks were silent, but Master Monk Chase still managed to block every kick, swing, and punch. When Omi finally dropped onto his butt, breathing hard, the teacher straightened his back and said, “Omi, as usual, your form is without flaw. Unfortunately, that makes your actions rather predictable.” When Omi wilted, Master Monk Chase bent down to his eye level and asked, “What do you think your best course of action should be for the sake of your improvement?”

Omi pursed his lips, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Perhaps I am too straightforward? Should I meditate on ways to use my skills in a more creative manner?”

Master Monk Chase smiled. “I think that would be an excellent--” He dropped the rest of his sentence when Raimundo sprang down from the monkey bars and hit the ground with an unusually loud thud. When Master Monk Chase turned to face him, a dozen golden ropes slammed into him from the opposite direction.

As Master Monk Chase stumbled back up to his feet, the Tangle Web Comb tightened its tendrils around his torso. Eyes wide, Chase looked up at Kimiko at the other end, who looked even more shocked than he did. A wide smile lit up her face, and she pumped her fist in victory. “Ha! That counts! I did it! I got you!”

However, as she danced in place, the ropes wavered. With his legs still free, Master Monk Chase side-stepped and yanked away from her. Kimiko yelped when the Tangle Web Comb fell from her hand, and as the ropes shrank away, the Shen Gong Wu bounced into Chase's open palm. With a chuckle, he said, “I will be honest: I did not expect any of you to land a successful hit. Well done, Kimiko. Can you tell me what you did well?”

Still managing a smile, Kimiko said, “Well, uh, I found my focus! And there was, like, some teamwork, too! When you were talking to Omi, I looked over at Raimundo, and he jumped off the monkey bars to distract you while I summoned the Tangle Web Comb, and... and then I had it!”

For some reason, Raimundo crossed his arms and looked away from everyone, scowling. Jack noticed it, but Master Monk Chase did not. He kept his focus on Kimiko. “And where did you make your error?”

Kimiko grinned sheepishly and twirled a finger in her pigtail. “I celebrated too early.”

Master Monk Chase walked to her and passed her back the Tangle Web Comb. “Correct. While you have indeed found your focus, you must learn to maintain it. Do not celebrate your victory until your enemy is truly defeated.”

“Thank you, Master Chase.” Kimiko nodded her head in a quick bow.

Clearing his throat, Omi put his hands on his hips and called across the grounds, “Were you planning on participating, Jack Spicer? Or were you hoping to become a Xiaolin Dragon by hiding in a bamboo forest while the rest of us do the hard work?”

Still standing in the same spot where he had started, Jack blinked, flailed his hands a bit, and stammered, “I was-- For your information, I was coming up with a genius battle strategy!” Sweating, he cleared his throat and fidgeted when Master Monk Chase turned his focus to him. “I-- I, uh, I'd just hate to break that beautiful nose of yours, you know?”

Master Monk Chase's eyebrows furrowed, mouth open slightly like he was pondering his next words carefully. Omi, however, had no such compunctions when he pointed and said, “You have never had any hesitation on the training grounds before. You have fought me countless times, and you have suffered countless embarrassments, but that has never stopped you from trying. But now that we have a _real_ danger to face, suddenly you are frozen in fear?”

Jack's voice was an octave too high when he answered, “I'm not scared!”

“Then _fight_!” yelled Omi, spreading his arms wide and stomping a foot in anger. “Show us that genius battle strategy of yours! Show us what you would do if Warlord Guan were here right now, threatening our lives and our temple. Prove to me-- prove to _us_ \-- that you are still a Xiaolin Dragon and that you still belong here!”

Jack's knees shook, his breathing turned rapid, and he knew it was stupid. Master Monk Chase would not hurt him. He had nothing to lose by at least throwing a punch or two. Even if he landed on his face in failure, it wouldn't be the first time; at least he would regain Omi's trust. But while he raised his feebly clenched fists, he heard Guan's monstrous roar in his ears. He saw the teeth and the claws in the corners of his vision, ready to rip him to pieces before he could scream for help--

“STOP EVERYTHING!” Dojo yelled.

Jack's clammy hands dropped to his knees, and he gasped for air. Through the pounding in his ears, he faintly heard the dragon rush out onto the training grounds and say, “We got a hot new Shen Gong Wu! Where's the scroll?”

Grateful for the distraction, Jack stared at the ground and tried to fight through a wave of dizziness. Before his vision could clear completely, though, he heard footsteps approaching him. Gritting his teeth, he felt his ears turn hot as Master Monk Chase bent down next to him and asked, “Jack, are you alright?”

“F-fine! D-don't worry about me,” Jack choked out, swinging a hand dismissively. “I'm fine, I just-- I uh-- I swallowed a fly.”

To his surprise, he heard a chuckle from Raimundo, soft near his other side. “Oh, good. You ate a bug. And here I thought something embarrassing was happening.”

Jack's answering snort came out in an awkward cough, but his lips curled up in a grin anyway. Giggling, he stood back upright and smacked Raimundo in the arm. Stepping away in a half-hearted dodge, Raimundo smiled back and kept laughing quietly, and Jack's heart most certainly did _not_ skip any beats at that. If a scowling Raimundo was the definition of “tall, dark, and handsome,” then a smiling Raimundo was something else entirely.

Dojo's voice called out, “Come on, boys, we gotta go!”

Master Monk Chase, who had been glancing back and forth between the two teens with an unreadable expression, turned to face the fully grown dragon. “I wish to make sure Jack is well, Dojo. Perhaps this Shen Gong Wu could wait a few moments?”

Deciding that his heart palpitations were probably just from his earlier panic, Jack turned away from Raimundo and watched Omi open the Shen Gong Wu scroll from atop Dojo's back. The scroll showed a moving picture of a veined, beating heart.

“'Fraid not,” said Dojo. “This one's the Heart of Jong.”

Silence sank briefly onto the training grounds. Confused, Jack turned back to Raimundo, but that smile was gone. Raimundo stood frozen in place, shoulders taut and eyes unblinking at the scroll.

Master Monk Chase moved toward Dojo and pointed at the two monks on his back. “Kimiko, Omi, step down. You four will wait here. I will fetch the Heart of Jong.”

Dojo rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his clawed fist. Raimundo made a strange choking sound, and Omi stood up on the dragon's back with the outcry, “What? No! Master Chase, you said so yourself: we are the Chosen Ones! We must make up for our previous battle against Warlord Guan!”

“If Guan is willing to break ribs for the Jetbootsu, I do not wish to know how much further he would harm you to acquire the Heart of Jong.” Master Monk Chase stopped and stood next to Dojo with his arms crossed, waiting for the two to disembark. “The four of you are not even apprentices yet; I will fare better in a match against him. Step down.”

Omi's chin quivered, but Jack knew the boy would rather break his own arm than disobey a direct order from his teacher. Omi and Kimiko slid down, heads hanging, but then Raimundo's nostrils flared, and he stomped over to Dojo. Throwing himself onto the dragon's back before Chase could stop him, he said, “I didn't come all the way out here to China to be babysat. What's the point of training us if you aren't going to let us fight our own battles?”

“This is no time for recklessness, Raimundo,” Chase snapped. “Do as you are told!”

“Um.” Jack lifted a finger and took a few steps toward the group. Though his voice had been small, everyone heard him and glanced over. Clearing his throat, Jack held out his palms and asked, “What if we all went?”

* * *

Though Master Monk Chase spent the entire flight spouting rapid-fire instructions on how to combat Guan (or, more specifically, how to avoid him), Jack was too queasy to listen. He couldn't tell if it was from Dojo's usual undulating or from his own sense of impending doom. He tried to convince himself that everything would be fine; if Guan showed up, Jack could hide behind someone else until the battle was over. If Omi gave him grief over it, he could point out how Chase obviously wanted everyone to stay out of trouble anyway. He was just following orders, right?

He gulped. Why didn't the other monks want to stay at the temple like Chase ordered, anyway? Guan had beaten the tar out of them. Why didn't they want Chase to take care of it, especially when he was already the most skilled fighter in the temple? Why did they want to go back out and fight Guan themselves?

Where did they get that courage, and why didn't Jack have it, too?

Dojo descended over a deciduous forest, scattering gold and red leaves as he landed. When Chase and the young monks jumped down, the dragon shrank and pointed westward. “Heart of Jong, due that way!”

Master Monk Chase murmured, “Stay close, young ones.”

As their teacher led them into the brightly lit forest, Jack hovered near him like a paperclip drawn to a magnet, mentally arguing that he was simply following directions. The other monks stayed within sight, but they were bold enough to fan out further. Raimundo peered into a hollow log, Kimiko strolled through the underbrush, and Omi stuck his hand into a knot hole of the nearest tree.

Then Omi's sudden scream rang out through the woods. Jack leaped onto Master Monk Chase's back with a panicked shriek of his own, and the elder monk spun around. Raimundo drew a knife from his pocket, Kimiko raised her arms for battle, and Omi ran past them with a squirrel clinging to his shirt, shrieking, “GET THIS DISEASE-CARRYING VERMIN OFF OF ME!”

Kimiko watched the boy run in circles around them and muttered, “Behold, the mighty Xiaolin Dragon of the Water.” Her eye caught the glint of the blade in Raimundo's hand, and she pointed at it. “I thought your knife broke?”

“I have more than one,” Raimundo said, eyebrows high as if she was the weird one for asking. Kimiko took a step away from him.

Master Monk Chase walked forward and calmly snagged Omi by the shirt. Picking up the squirrel by its scruff, he tugged it free and dropped it onto the grass. As Omi frantically wiped his hands across his robes as if to rid himself of the squirrel germs, the teacher gave a faint smile and asked, “Are you alright?”

“It tried to bite me,” Omi whined, sulking at the tear on his sleeve. “It could have had _rabies_.”

“It is rather difficult to face something that frightens you, isn't it?” asked Chase.

Startled by the question, Omi looked up. His eyes slid from Chase to Jack, who still clung to their teacher like a baby koala. Omi's gaze turned cold, and with a huff, he crossed his arms and said, “Perhaps, but I would not know. I was not frightened; I was merely caught by surprise. I have no fears, unlike _some_ warriors.”

Master Monk Chase frowned when Omi stomped away. Folding his fingers in front of him, he let out a heavy sigh. Behind him, Jack mumbled into his shoulder, “Thanks for trying.”

“I am not sure what you mean,” Master Monk Chase said nonchalantly, waiting while Jack slid down to his own feet.

Hands fidgeting, Jack shrugged. “I don't think he's gonna forgive me for running away from Guan, not unless I do better next time we see him. But I... I don't know if I can. I'm no good at the obstacle course, and I'm no good at sparring, and that was fine because I could always try again later, but...”

“That is why I am here, Jack,” said Chase. “None of you are ready to face Guan, which is why I will battle him in your stead.”

“That's not the point, though!” Jack tugged at his own hair, knocking his goggles askew. “Omi's right; we're the Chosen Ones! Even if I'm not skilled enough to beat Guan, I should still _want_ to, right? Isn't that my destiny? What kind of warrior runs and hides when his teammates are in trouble? If I'm too chicken to fight a bad guy, then how will I become the Xiaolin Dragon of Metal? What if I don't belong here?”

“Jack.” Master Monk Chase set his hands on either of Jack's shoulders. “Fearlessness is not a trait to admire. After all, the bravest warrior is not the one who fears nothing, but the one who is willing to face what he fears most. You choose your own destiny. If you wish to be here, then you belong.”

“But I...”

Kimiko's voice rang out, “Master Chase, I think I found it!” Jack leaned to peek around the trees ahead of them. With Omi and Raimundo flanking her on either side, Kimiko pointed up at a gleam in the branches. Raimundo threw a stick upward, and the purplish object dropped and hit the dirt with a squelch. Kimiko grimaced and flinched away. “Eww!”

Releasing Jack and running to the group, Master Monk Chase peered into the forest before picking the Heart of Jong off the ground. He barely gave it a glance; as if expecting an ambush, he kept his gaze trained on their surroundings. Raimundo, frowning and with his back to the group, seemed to have the same mindset. Jack rubbed his own shoulders as he approached them.

The tense, confused atmosphere dissipated when Dojo sprang onto Omi's shoulder and said, “Welp. Looks like you came all the way out here for nothing, Chase.” Omi's lip curled out in a pout, and Raimundo kicked a nearby rock and tugged his hood further over his face. Kimiko and Jack were the only two to respond with relief, though Kimiko's sagging shoulders were less obvious than Jack's loud exhale.

“As I initially expected,” murmured Chase, who seemed surprised that his logical reasoning had triumphed over his pessimistic paranoia, “Hannibal Bean has no interest in Mala Mala Jong. Your battle with Guan had nothing to do with the Jetbootsu; he wanted something else.”

“Like what?” asked Omi. Master Monk Chase stared at the Heart of Jong and didn't answer.

Dojo stretched his little arms over his head. “Well, I don't know about any of you, but I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.” He jumped and swirled around the group, expanding to full size. “Hop on, kids and babysitter!”

* * *

Later that night, with no one around to complain about his blowtorch, Jack Spicer bobbed his head to the most obnoxious punk rock music he illegally owned. Sitting alone in his underground lair with his headphones vibrating against his ears, he shifted back and forth from his laptop computer to the Jackbot skull on the floor in front of him. Leaning down, he stuck out his tongue a bit while fiddling with two tiny wires.

“This would be a lot easier if I had the Changing Chopsticks,” he said, more to his other four Jackbots than to himself. Unfortunately, the last time he'd borrowed the Shen Gong Wu without permission, Master Fung had quietly pulled him aside and calmly suggested that scrubbing between the tiles of the grand hall would help him learn to ask permission first. Jack wasn't about to risk getting busted again.

Then again, Master Fung wasn't here anymore.

An eyebrow rose over his goggles, and a mischievous smile lit up his face.

Still clad in black pajamas and yellow, googly eyed slippers, Jack trotted up the stairs and out through the greenhouse, bobbing his head and shoulders in beat with his music. The night was calm and clear, and the waxing moon lit his way. He danced a little jig up the two stairs into the meditation room above the vault, humming to himself. Though the vault could only open in response to a tune played on the little bells hanging near the door, he had it memorized. More importantly, he didn't have to worry about getting caught. For all his intuition and attentiveness, Master Monk Chase was a shockingly heavy sleeper.

However, when Jack strolled across the room and reached for the golden bells, something made him pause. His hands froze an inch from the bells, and an unpleasant, fearful sensation rose in his gut. Everything in the room turned still. Heart pounding, Jack pulled off his headphones, frowned at the bells, and wondered what was wrong with him. Surely it wasn't his _tiger instincts_ ; he'd never been any good at that stuff...

He turned and glanced down at the vault, a set of spiral stairs that descended from the cauldron in the center of the room. His breath caught. The stairs were supposed to be hidden under a brick red circle around the cauldron, but Jack could see the stairs now. Not only was the vault unlocked; it was _open_.

Setting his headphones on the floor, Jack crept to the center of the room and peered down the stairs. Was something shuffling around below, or was he hearing things? Old embers glimmered in dim torches against the circular wall, faintly lighting the way down. His slippers thankfully made no sound as he took a few timid steps into the vault. He'd forgotten to grab a flashlight on his way here, but he told himself it was no big deal. After all, he'd said so himself: he wasn't afraid of the dark anymore, right?

When he reached the drawer with the Changing Chopsticks, his hand brushed across the stone carvings and curled above the rim. He leaned forward a bit and peered at the drawers of the other Shen Gong Wu further down the staircase. His heart kept pounding against his rib cage for some stupid reason, but he let out a quiet breath. Obviously, there was no one else down here.

Further down, a drawer opened by itself.

Jack screamed and stumbled. The drawer slammed shut. Jack frantically scrambled backwards up the stairs, but before he could even lose sight of the offending drawer, a raspy voice shrieked behind him, “Foolish boy! You let the inept redhead sneak up on you!”

With another, louder scream, Jack whirled around. Inches away hovered a translucent purple figure, face covered by a painted mask and limbs curling out in dozens of tendrils. The mask's mouth curled in a snarl. Jack's third outburst came out in a barely human screech as he toppled back down the stairs, slammed into something solid, and desperately grabbed at it. His fingers latched onto a silky, smooth substance, a cloth that turned silver as he kept falling.

He rolled down a few more stairs and finally came to a stop, neck bent at a precarious angle against the wall. Panting and trembling, he gingerly heaved himself upright and stared at the unmistakable Shroud of Shadows in his clenched fingers. Adjusting his lopsided goggles, he peered back up the stairs.

With the masked ghost curled around his shoulders and the Heart of Jong clutched tight against his chest, Raimundo stared back down at him.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“R-Raimundo?” Jack stammered, swaying to his feet. “What-- what's going on? What is that thing?”

Caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar, Raimundo looked shocked and horrified for at least a moment. Then he narrowed his eyes and scowled at the ghost. “You know, Wuya, I could have played this off if you hadn't decided to jump out at him like a cheap Halloween prop.”

“Wuya?” Jack flinched away from the ghost. “That's Wuya?”

“Forget about him!” Wuya hissed, swirling around the hooded teen. “We have what we came for, and you can finally complete your end of the deal!”

“What deal?” On shaking legs, Jack managed a step toward the two. “Raimundo? H-hey, Beta Brawn, what's happening? What are you doing with the Heart of Jong?”

Raimundo leaned back a bit when his gaze flickered back to the other teen, and there was that weird pitying expression again. His mouth tightened into a thin line until he said, “Just go back upstairs, dude. This is none of your business.”

“That Shen Gong Wu... It belongs to us. It's ours.” Taking another step closer, Jack found the nerves to point directly at the ghost. “Is that Wuya? But she's a bad guy, isn't she? Why are you talking to her? What are you--?”

“You Xiaolin Warriors turn more obtuse every generation, don't you?” Wuya drifted down the stairs and circled around Jack, who stumbled back and pinned himself against the wall with a whimper. “Do I have to spell things out for you? Raimundo is working for _me_. He stole your Shroud of Shadows right from under your nose, and then he took the rest of your Shen Gong Wu--”

“He wouldn't do that!” Jack said, voice a bit too high to sound convincing. “Yeah, he gets grumpy sometimes, but he's not evil! And even if he was, he'd never stoop to serving some freaky ghost hag!”

Wuya let out a raspy snarl, and Jack looked up at Raimundo for confirmation. Instead, the other teen's face colored with a weird mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear before he managed to mask it. Turning stoic, he said, “You're right; I'm not her servant. It's a business deal.”

Jack's heart managed to plummet even further down into his gut as the ghost chuckled and rolled her yellow, pupilless eyes. “Yes, of course, boy. Business.”

“Let's just get this over with,” said Raimundo, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. “Jack, stay down here. Or go to your lair, or your room, or wherever. Whatever you do, just stay out of our way.” He turned and trotted up the stairs, and Wuya trailed after him.

“H-hey, wait!” Jack haphazardly stuffed the Shroud of Shadows into a pajama pocket and staggered after them, wincing and yelping at bit at the bruises from his earlier fall. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Raimundo stood at the doorway leading outside, head turned back to frown at him. Jack's shoulders sagged, and he said, “You can't just-- You stole the other Shen Gong Wu? You're the thief?”

Raimundo rolled his eyes. “Try to keep up, Jack.”

“But why?” Jack walked toward him with palms upward, and Raimundo instinctively shifted into a battle stance. “Don't you want to become a Xiaolin Dragon like the rest of us? You're working for some purple mask-face when you could be learning to protect the world and get superpowers and-- and--”

Baring his teeth in what could have almost been a smile, Raimundo said, “I already told you, Jack: this place is a waste of time. I thought coming to the Xiaolin temple would make me a better warrior, but no one has managed to teach me anything useful since I got here. Not Master Fung, not Master Chase, and certainly not you. At least Wuya managed to get the information I've needed for a year now, so now I can go back to Rio and finally make a difference.” He twirled the Heart of Jong on his palm. “The least I can do is repay her.”

“Information?” Jack asked. “What information?”

Raimundo bristled. “None of your business.” In a few quick strides, he was back in the vault and had Jack by the shirt of his pajamas. As Jack's hands ducked behind his own back, the hooded teen snarled, “None of this is _any_ of your business, and if you don't back off, I'll make you.”

Tapping at his wristwatch, Jack gulped and tried in vain to yank away from Raimundo's grip. “H-hey, I wouldn't pick a fight with me if I were you, pal. I've been training here since I was six; don't make me b-bust you up with my sick moves. I don't wanna hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Raimundo's smile turned slightly crazed. “You? Hurt _me_? Remind me again, Spicer: which of us is the quickest on the obstacle course, and who's the slowest? Which one of us lost to an eight-year-old boy at the tiger instincts exercise, and who beat him within seconds? The only intelligent battle strategy you've ever had was the one you used against Warlord Guan. So use your brain now, Jack: run and hide. You're good at that.”

He yanked up Jack's shirt and dropped him. Instead of falling to his knees, Jack let his hands hit the floor first so he could fling himself toward the open door. Raimundo raised an eyebrow while Jack slapped his hands on either side of the doorway and braced himself, facing the other teen and blocking the way out. Wuya phased through the wall back into the vault, and her masked face curled into a glower. “What is taking you so long, boy? Get rid of him!”

A distant, faint buzzing reached Jack's ears, but Raimundo didn't seem to notice. He threw his arms open as wide as Jack's and said, “Knock it off, Spicer! You can't beat me in a fight, so just quit while you're ahead!”

Jack's hands turned cold and clammy against the wooden door frame, and his heart rammed loud enough for him to hear the beat in his ears. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and took a step toward his opponents. “I'm a l-lot of things, Raimundo. I'm a coward. I'm a weakling. And you know what? I'm probably the worst Xiaolin Dragon ever. But I am _not_ a quitter!” Behind him, four spotlights flipped on in a bright burst. Hair and goggles gleaming in the light, Jack pointed at Raimundo. “Jackbots, ATTACK!”

He flung himself to the side, and his four completed Jackbots soared through the open door. Raimundo lurched back in shock for a split second before he yelled, “Jetbootsu!” His metallic footwear gleamed, and he flew straight up toward the high glassed ceiling. The Jackbots pointed the laser guns on their chests, and the vault lit with flashes of red and white.

Jack scuttled for cover and pinned himself against the cauldron in the center of the room. Wuya's yellow eyes turned round while the robots buzzed around and past her, but the laser beams passed harmlessly through her translucent body. As the Jackbots soared upward, Raimundo reached the ceiling and peered down at them, Heart of Jong still in his clutches. Wobbling a bit in the air, he kicked off from the glass and flew straight toward the nearest robot. A trail of red beams followed him, and he slammed into the first robot with a crunch.

Jack yelped and slapped a hand over his mouth, but to his surprise, the crunching sound had not come from Raimundo's own bones. Instead, the robot-- one he had literally built from a car-- flailed with a new, solid dent in its torso. Visibly unruffled, Raimundo spun and roundhouse kicked a second robot into the wall. The two broken bots tumbled toward the ground, smoke pouring from their torsos, but the remaining two flew at Raimundo from opposite sides. One reached out its metallic, clawed hands and grabbed Raimundo's arms from behind. The other paused in front of him and aimed its laser gun at his head.

“Non-lethal!” Jack yelled, rapidly typing into his wristwatch. The two broken robots hit the ground and exploded on either side of him. Cringing in impulsive fear at the noise, he shouted, “Don't kill him! Non-lethal--”

The aiming Jackbot paused at the incoming digital commands, giving Raimundo the time to yank his arm free and throw the Heart of Jong at its head. Wuya shrieked in rage. The Shen Gong Wu bounced off the robot's face, and Jack watched it drop to the floor. He heard more crunches overhead while he ducked around the burning remains of his poor Jackbots. Metal fingers and elbow joints clattered onto the floor. Jack flung himself the last few feet to the Heart of Jong, landing on his belly and slapping his hand upon it just as Raimundo grabbed it from the opposite side.

“Whoa, hey, I got it fair and square!” Jack whined, trying to yank the Shen Gong Wu closer. Hovering upside-down in the air with the Jetbootsu, Raimundo casually spun himself right side up, bringing Jack and the Heart of Jong with him. Jack yelped, his body flung like a pile of wet noodles, and he latched onto the heart with both hands. The two teens were now nose to nose, Jack on his knees and Raimundo floating in front of him.

“Let go.” Voice icy, Raimundo effortlessly jerked Jack forward, sliding him across the floor.

Jack tightened his grip. “N-no way! You may have beaten up my Jackbots, b-but I got more tricks up my sleeve--” His round, red eyes glanced down at the Heart of Jong when it started to glow as brightly as the burning metal around them. “That-- uh-- that's not one of them, though.”

Raimundo squinted at the glowing Shen Gong Wu, wincing like he expected the light to burn him. “What's going on?”

“This, my dear boys, is a Xiaolin Showdown.” Wuya drifted down between them, grinning wildly. “I certainly did not anticipate you two to reach an impasse of all things-- honestly, Raimundo, I expected better-- but at least this will settle the match once and for all.”

“Match?” repeated Jack.

Voice still cold but now with a trace of worry, Raimundo asked, “What's a Xiaolin Showdown?”

“Quite simply, my boy, it is a duel to settle your stalemate. If neither of you choose to surrender the Heart of Jong now, then you must compete in the Xiaolin Showdown to win it from your opponent. First, you each wager a Shen Gong Wu.” She eyed each of them. “Well? Choose!”

“I wager the Jetbootsu,” said Raimundo, turning back to Jack.

“U-uh, wager? Like, one of mine? Uh.” Jack reached back toward his pockets, and his fingers clasped a silvery fabric. “Oh! Uh, I wager the Shroud of Shadows?”

Wuya's grin spread even wider. “And now you choose the duel.”

“Choose?” Raimundo muttered. “Like there's more than one type?”

“Wait-- wait--” Jack sat up straighter. “A Xiaolin Showdown! I know what that is! It's a game! You wager stuff, and then you choose what game you're gonna do-- Chase told us about it-- Omi and I played it all the time as kids--”

Wuya should not have been able to wrinkle the nose on her mask, but she managed somehow. “Very astute, Jack Spicer. Dashi certainly did prefer to call it a 'game.' Your Xiaolin Showdown could be tic-tac-toe or checkers, for all he cared. Or,” she leered at Raimundo, “it could be far more interesting. First to stab the other through the heart, perhaps? First to snap the other's neck? The world is your oyster, my dear boy--”

“Soccer,” said Raimundo.

Wuya's grin faltered, and Jack clambered to his feet. “Um, wait. Can we pick a different game? I'm not very good at soccer, or any ball game for that matter...”

“I didn't think you were.” Raimundo's sneer was more subtle than Wuya's. “That's why I picked it.”

Jack's mouth opened and closed into a thin line. “Ah. Gotcha.”

“First to score a point wins.” Raimundo yanked at the Heart of Jong one more time, nearly causing Jack to stumble. “Alright, let's go: Xiaolin Showdown!”

The vault exploded. In a burst of sound and light, the walls around them broke apart and disintegrated. Raimundo's confidence shattered from his face, and the two teens grabbed onto each other while the floor morphed below them, expanding outward into a giant stone field. Two netted goals rose on either end, and then the ground turned still.

While Jack tried to force his heart back down from his throat, he became aware of rapid breathing in his hair and fingers digging into his shirt. Raimundo seemed to notice this, too, because he suddenly shoved Jack away and took several steps backwards. The Heart of Jong rose into the air, glowing even brighter over the center of the soccer field.

“Where's the--?” Raimundo spun in place like a caged animal. “Where's the temple?”

Wuya appeared at Raimundo's side, looking immensely unimpressed at his behavior. “You will return to the temple once you win the Xiaolin Showdown. Honestly, Raimundo, I thought you were more intelligent than this.”

Jack was slightly less alarmed by the unexpected display of Xiaolin magic, but only slightly. His knees quivered, and he had to grab his knees to keep from fainting on the spot. He blinked down at himself; his red Xiaolin robes had replaced his pajamas. After a few seconds of gulping for air, his eyebrows furrowed, and he murmured, “Where's the ball?” His eyes drifted upward to the Heart of Jong.

“You said you'd heard of Xiaolin Showdowns before, Spicer,” snapped Raimundo. His Xiaolin robes had not appeared; he still wore his white hoodie. “How do we start this thing?”

“Okay...here we go...” Jack gulped and pushed himself off his knees. Swaying a bit, he pulled the Shroud of Shadows from his pocket and held it out in front of him. He took a deep breath, braced his legs, and shouted, “GONG YI TAN PAI!”

The Heart of Jong swirled in place, morphed into a soccer ball, and dropped down from the sky. Raimundo bent his knees and sprang forward, but just as the ball hit the ground, Jack yelled, “Shroud of Shadows!” Instead of wrapping the Shen Gong Wu around himself, he tossed the silvery fabric over the ball, and it vanished.

Raimundo skidded to a stop, eyes steady on the spot where the ball had disappeared. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Great job. Now neither of us can see it.”

“Actually,” said Jack, pulling his goggles over his eyes and casting a golden tint on his surroundings, “it used to be the Heart of Jong, which you were holding for several minutes. It absorbed a bunch of your body heat, so now it's warmer than the ground.” He tapped a button at his wristwatch, and Raimundo's body turned bright red through the goggles. A round, faintly orange object appeared between them. With a wicked grin, Jack said, “Guess who has heat vision?”

Jack kicked at the orange object, and the invisible ball bounced down the field. To everyone's surprise, including his own, Jack cackled as he ran after it. Raimundo's cheeks turned red, and he was almost too startled to move until Wuya screeched, “Don't just stand there, you little buffoon! Go get him!”

Jack sprinted down the field, only stumbling twice when his feet failed to make contact with the ball. Far out behind him, he heard Raimundo summon the Jetbootsu. In a gust of wind, the other teen slammed onto the ground before him in a blur of bright red. With a small shriek, Jack tried to duck around him, but Raimundo side-stepped and blocked his way. The ball rolled out of reach. Jack eyed the teen's clenched fists and shrank back, but the punch never came. Raimundo stayed an arm's length away, scowling but not striking.

“What are you doing?” Wuya hissed. “Attack him!”

“Can't,” said Raimundo, matching Jack's steps stride for stride. “That'd be a foul.”

Wuya sputtered, and Jack's mouth dropped open. Kicking at empty air as a weak bluff, he asked, “A foul? You're working for the most evil Heylin witch in existence, and you're worried about breaking the rules?”

“I'm not working for Wuya,” Raimundo said. “I don't care about any of this Xiaolin and Heylin stuff. I'm not on her side. She got me something I wanted, and now I'm getting her something she wants. It has nothing to do with you.”

Jack flailed his hands, inching closer to the soccer ball. “And what do you think she's going to do when she has what she wants? Leave quietly? She's evil, Raimundo! She wants to plummet the world into a thousand years of darkness, and you're helping her do it!”

“Not my problem. After this Xiaolin Showdown is over, I'm leaving the temple and never coming back.” Still matching Jack's footwork, albeit with slightly less clumsiness, he snorted. “Not that you'd welcome me back, anyway, after all this.”

“I don't know,” Jack mumbled, twiddling his fingers. “You're my friend, so... I might?”

Raimundo froze. “What?”

Jack paused, too, and he pulled the goggles off his eyes to meet Raimundo's gaze. “I mean, don't get me wrong: you're being a real jerk right now. But you've been living at the temple with us for months, and... I dunno, I don't think you're a bad person. You're kinda cool, actually. So even if you don't care about me or the other monks or the world or whatever, you're still my teammate, you know? I don't wanna lose the Heart of Jong, but I'd rather lose some stupid Shen Gong Wu than lose you.”

Raimundo stared at him, expression unreadable. As Jack's brain caught up with his mouth, a blush spread across his face to both of his ears, and he slammed the goggles back over his eyes. He peered around and bit his lip. “Uh-oh. Um...”

“What?” asked Raimundo, a line creasing between his eyebrows.

Jack pivoted in place, studying the empty soccer field before he gave a sheepish smile. “Well, uh, it looks like all your body heat faded off the ball. I have no idea where it is now.”

Raimundo gawked, and then his teeth pulled back in a furious grimace. “Jack! Jack, you _stupid_ \--” Gripping at his hair, he screwed his eyes shut, and after a sharp intake of breath, he shouted, “WIND!”

A gust of air burst away from him in an expanding circle. Jack yelped and fell back in the blast, and the Shroud of Shadows lifted into the air, revealing the soccer ball a short distance from his goal. Without summoning the Jetbootsu at all, Raimundo flew to the ball and kicked it back up the field with all his might. The ball soared over Jack's head, bounced once, and smacked into the net of the opposite goal.

The ground shook, and in another eruption of light, the field disappeared. The vault's walls reassembled themselves around the two teens, and as the room turned dark again, Jack landed on his back, empty-handed.

Wuya's voice drifted down, “Brilliant, Raimundo! Using a Xiaolin element to defeat a Xiaolin monk: very impressive back-stabbing.”

Jack sat up gingerly. Raimundo stood at the doorway with the Heart of Jong in one hand, the Jetbootsu in the other, and the Shroud of Shadows draped across his shoulders. He frowned at the Shen Gong Wu like he wasn't entirely certain how they'd gotten there.

“And now you have all the pieces of the puzzle!” Wuya swirled around him, grin filling half of her mask. “Come, Raimundo, and you can complete your end of the bargain!”

Jack's shoulders slumped, and he started blinking away the heat in his eyes. Raimundo's gaze turned to him, head tilted a fraction. Then, pulling his hood down to settle against his neck, he faced the ghost and asked, “Who's Mala Mala Jong?”

Wuya paused, tendrils spilling around her. “What?”

“You've kept me in the dark long enough, Wuya: who is Mala Mala Jong, and why do you want to summon him?”

Wuya's arms, identical to the strands of her hair, came together in front of her, but her smile remained rigid. “I do not see why that matters to you, my dear boy. After all, you said so yourself: you don't care about the feud between the Xiaolin and Heylin sides.”

“Speaking of dodging questions,” said Raimundo, “I've got another one: who let you out? Master Fung said some dude named Dashi locked you away in a puzzle box, which is why you've been gone for 1,500 years. But someone must have let you out, and they must be the same person who hired that fat ninja. Who was it?”

Little sparks of electricity began to flicker around Wuya's incorporeal form. “You do not need to concern yourself with these things, Raimundo. We had a deal, and it is your turn to pay the piper. You have to summon Mala Mala Jong so that I can finally lay waste to this hapless temple!”

“I don't, actually.” Raimundo's mouth curved upward at Wuya's raspy growl. “You never told me anything about Mala Mala Jong, so slapping him together was not part of the bargain. My end of the deal was to steal the Shen Gong Wu to make him. Looks like I _just_ finished doing that, which means my part is done.” He held out his arms and let the Heart of Jong and Jetbootsu clatter to the floor. “So now I'm giving them back.”

Jack gasped. He tried to jump to his feet, but his body had run out of adrenaline; he flailed on the floor like a beached fish and had to land on his hands to keep from falling over. Wuya watched the Shen Gong Wu drop, and her outrage echoed through the vault, “You can't do that!”

Beaming, Raimundo countered, “I'd like to see you try to stop me.”

The electricity crackling through Wuya's body burst across the vault, but the light passed harmlessly through both teens. The witch expanded her size and screeched, “Mark my words, Raimundo: you haven't seen the last of me! I won't forget this!”

“Wind!” Raimundo called, slapping his hands together. Air gusted through the vault and tossed the shrieking ghost across the room. She passed through the wall, and her curses and outcries faded into nothing.

With a mere roll of his eyes, Raimundo strode away from the doorway and toward a stone column near the golden bells. Panting, Jack finally managed to heave himself to his feet. By the time he did, Raimundo had pulled something out from behind the column. He walked back to Jack and held out a dingy, open backpack. Inside gleamed all the other missing Shen Gong Wu.

“She couldn't take them from me,” said Raimundo, avoiding eye contact. “So I wasn't really sure what she wanted with them for a while. I didn't care, really.” He pushed the backpack into Jack's arms, and his head ducked down. “Sorry.”

Jack's googly-eyed slippers shuffled beneath him. “You brought them back, though.”

“Well.” Raimundo let his shoulders drop, and his hands went into his pockets. “I doubt Master Monk Chase will see it that way.” Glancing up shyly, he pulled out a hand to tap at his own forehead. “That was a rad trick with the goggles, dude. I was wrong about you; you'll make a really cool Xiaolin Dragon someday.” After scratching at his hair with an index finger, he waved at Jack and walked to the door. “Well. Uh. See ya, I guess.”

Jack blinked, dropped the bag of Shen Gong Wu, and trotted after him. “Wait, you're still leaving?”

“Got no choice, right?” Raimundo stepped outside and tilted his head up toward the stars. “I teamed up with a Heylin witch and stole half our Wu. Better to hit the road than to wait for Master Monk Chase to throw me out.”

Jack paused at the top of the stairs, and his hand went up into his hair. “Why does Chase have to know?”

Raimundo glanced back at Jack. “Aren't you going to tell him what happened?”

“I'm not a snitch.” Eyes turning round, Jack bit his lip and studied his slippers. “I mean, you dumped her and brought all the Wu back, so what does it matter? Water off a duck's back, I think. You're not gonna betray us for anyone else, right? Like, give all our stuff to Guan, instead?”

Raimundo wrinkled his nose. “Eww, no! I _hate_ that guy. Next time I see Guan, I'm kicking his butt.”

Jack snorted with laughter at the unexpected response. Wrapping an arm around his rib cage and wincing a bit at the bruises, he grinned and said, “Well, you can't kick Guan's butt if you leave and never see him again, can you?”

“Hmm.” Raimundo's mouth curved into the first sincere smile Jack had seen from him that evening. “I guess that's all the incentive I need, huh?” The smile dropped after a second, and his head ducked down again. Ears red, he murmured, “Thanks.”

Though a small, logical part of Jack's brain couldn't help but wonder if forgiveness was a smart decision after all, he reached over and pulled Raimundo into a side hug. “No problem.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: As my readers have likely noticed, this fic might go on hiatus for a while. My mom died earlier this year, my brother moved across the country, my dad is retiring, and overall I have had to set the fic aside to focus on family stuff. Sorry to keep you guys waiting!


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